The Times of His Life
by SGP
Summary: Jack looks back on the events and happenings of his life, the things that shaped him, while living through still more adventures
1. Part I

THE TIMES OF HIS LIFE

Part I

Chapter 1 -

Jack sat back from the computer, pleased with all he'd managed to write that morning. He'd found that he did best when he was fresh, breakfast over but the caffeine in his coffee still having its effect. His sharpness wasn't what it had once been, and he knew that he was far more productive before he felt the afternoon lethargy that sometimes came on.

He was only a little way into his memoirs, as he thought of them, but he knew they would never be published. He'd been encouraged to write by his psychiatrist, a man with top-secret clearance who could read Jack's story, the story of his life, and understand him better. Getting his thoughts down on paper, the doctor knew, focusing, would help Jack heal.

Jack wasn't a young man anymore, but the ghosts from his past still plagued him. His voluntary retirement from CTU left him too much time to think. Well into his sixties now, Jack had led one of the most stressful lives the doctor could ever imagine. He was surprised that Jack had been able to accomplish all that he had, especially without therapy; that he hadn't been paralyzed by his past was a testament to Jack's strength. The doctor was amazed at the number of times Jack had forced himself beyond levels of physical and emotional pain in order to accomplish his missions. Jack seemed to be the only one who didn't recognize it.

He'd finally admitted to himself that he didn't have what it takes to continue. He was mentally and physically exhausted from his years of work at CTU, and the countless injuries, psychological as well as physical, that he'd endured. The many deaths and other crises had finally worn him down to the point where he recognized that he had outlived his usefulness, that staying on at CTU would only put his people in jeopardy because he had lost his edge, his sharpness. He'd told Kim and Chase that the decision to retire hadn't been difficult after that. Not too difficult, he'd more honestly admitted to himself, but in actuality letting go had been very hard for him. It was the only life he had really ever known, and when he was being honest with himself he was afraid of the future. He didn't want time to wrestle with his demons, something he knew he'd have to face when he no longer had to give his all to his job, Director of Field Ops for CTU. Although he'd worked directly under the agency director in Washington planning all missions for CTU around the world, he was so valuable to the agency that they'd bent the rules and allowed him to stay in Los Angeles. With secure communications lines and video conferencing it hadn't really affected things, and Jack had made staying in LA a condition of accepting the position. He had lost so much in his life that he wasn't willing to be parted from Kim and his grandchildren. Soon his great-grandchildren, he remembered with a start. Kim and Chase were about to become grandparents. He couldn't believe it. He couldn't believe how the time had gone by.

Confronting his past was beyond painful at times, as the doctor had warned him, but Jack found that he derived some comfort from it, something that greatly surprised him, for he realized that all of the memories had always been with him; he'd just managed to push them out of his conscious mind. Their presence there had always weighed on him, without his really letting himself be aware of them. For that, too, he had paid a tremendous price.

Jack tried to get out of the house every afternoon for he knew that living a solitary life, with only his past to keep him occupied, would not help him focus and would only make the task of examining his life even harder. Activity would distract from his need to confront all that he had lived through. He couldn't just re-live his former life. He had to spend some time in the real world.

He took up tennis again when he retired. He'd played varsity at UCLA and he wanted to stay in shape, and tennis was a social game. So he had joined a league and soon advanced to the top team. His natural athleticism came through despite the long time it had been since he had played, and he had never lost his competitive nature. It got him away from his computer twice a week, and when he occasionally saw his tennis partners for dinner and a few beers he found he enjoyed the company. He had rarely had the time for such companionship, not since the army, and he knew he needed it now. This had only served to emphasize for him how alone he had been for so much of his life, mostly by choice, and he now sometimes admitted this to himself. However, with the doctor's help he was determined to concentrate on living in the here and now while he examined his past, and he joined these men for dinner whenever he could. He knew it was good for him psychologically; even more important he knew he liked it. He was learning to let himself need things now, and to give in to those needs. He no longer had to act selflessly as he had throughout his career, and he reveled in his new-found ability to concentrate on himself.

His walkman played jazz or 70's rock when he ran four or five miles a day through his neighborhood. He still worked out frequently at the gym but he hadn't made friends there. Running, whether through the streets or on the indoor track at the health club and lifting weights weren't conducive to conversation, nor were the laps in the pool that he tried to swim every day. So tennis twice a week was good for him, in many ways.

He decided it was time for a break. He stretched as he stood up and walked from his den to his bedroom. Kim had decorated the townhouse to fit his style. It was understated without being spartan, in muted shades of blue that matched his still-bright eyes. His king-size bed had been shared all too rarely. He was still sometimes lax about his clothes, which were frequently strewn on the chair and sometimes on the floor, but he was fastidious by nature, so things didn't stay there long. Kim had showed him how to work the washer and dryer, something he hadn't bothered with before. It had always been easier to just take his clothes to a laundromat and then pick them up, all neatly folded. As he grew more domesticated, something he ruefully acknowledged had taken an inordinate amount of time, he became more comfortable with everyday chores. He still had a sinking feeling when he walked into his empty house but he had grown accustomed to loneliness. It had been his self-imposed lot throughout most of his adult life, and while he had never learned to like it he had at least made peace with it.

He was no longer in the habit of pouring himself a drink right after he came through the door. Now he usually had just a single beer with his dinner, and possibly a scotch when he later watched TV. He had always been a Dodgers fan, something he'd always taunted Tony about, for the Cubs still hadn't won a Series. The kidding had always been good-natured, though, and had gone both ways. Jack was a life-long hockey fan, and had played in a pick-up game from time to time. In fact he toyed with the idea of joining a seniors league, but so far he hadn't made the move. But the LA Kings had proved almost as hapless as the Cubs, and Tony had never stopped reminding Jack of it. So their banter had continued over the years, along with their friendship, and they tried to have dinner together once a week, something that didn't always happen because Tony was still with CTU. Tony, too, was a grandfather, and his five grandchildren were about the same ages as Jack's three. Tony and Michelle had two kids who were now happily married, and their collective girls and boys were the apples of their grandparents' eyes. They doted on their grandkids the way Jack did on his. In years past the kids had played together, splashing in Kim's backyard pool while their grandfathers prepared a barbecue. Now they were old enough to have kids of their own.

Jack thought of this as he grabbed his gym bag and set the alarm before he locked the town house and walked to his SUV. After so many years a regular passenger car had never felt right to him. He thought again how much of his retirement income was being wasted on the gas guzzler, but he had more than enough to live on, the house was fully paid off, and he could indulge himself a little.

But his main indulgence was his grandkids. Since they were little he'd loved to take them to the Santa Monica pier, reveling in their squeals of delight when they went on the rides. They were grown now, but that didn't change his need to be with them, and he was glad that they wanted him to be part of their lives. He'd managed to attend their school plays and concerts when they were little, something he'd never been able to do with Kim. No, that's not right, he thought. I never made much of an effort to do it. He'd been an absentee father in so many respects, even when he hadn't been away on missions. He'd devoted himself to CTU so completely that he'd neglected his family, a feeling that would never go away. The way he'd treated Teri and Kim, more than anything else, was his greatest regret.

When Kim's kids were born Jack had realized that he had a second chance, to see the world through young, innocent eyes, to share their wonder at things as they saw them for the first time. Imagining what things looked like to them, their responses to new experiences, was a treat he'd denied himself when Kim was young. It was an incredible feeling for him. Little lives with such great futures, he marveled. And thank God I'm here to see it. The thought of a great-grandchild filled him with happiness. He could re-live the joy he'd had with Kim's kids. It would help keep him active and young.

Such thoughts brought back memories of his life as an agent, which had caused, no, given him the excuse to focus on his work to the detriment of his family. They were memories he wished fervently to forget. But with reflection he realized that all of these events had made him the man he was, the troubled, imperfect man who had made so many bad choices in his life, who had caused so much pain to those he loved. Such thoughts revived others, buried deeper than most, that made getting out of bed so hard some mornings. He'd never been introspective, he'd never let himself be, for he had known, subconsciously, that he couldn't go on if he confronted all of the things that comprised his past. Several times he'd come close to breaking but sheer will had kept him going. It wasn't until he'd retired that he acknowledged that help was out there. He'd told himself so many times when he was younger that a man in his position couldn't indulge in the luxury that was professional therapy.

His love for Kim and for her children had led him to finally see the doctor. CTU had several psychiatrists on staff, doctors who were cleared to treat agents with overwhelming problems, but Jack had realized that there was another criterion that was at least as important: he had to feel comfortable with the man. He knew himself well enough to recognize that only someone with whom he was relaxed would make him feel that he could really open up. And it was about time he did, he finally acknowledged. All the realism and immediacy he had focused on in his professional life hadn't permitted him to seek out therapy before. An agent had to be completely burned out before he would allow himself to open up to anyone, even another agent, and that would signify the end of his career. The culture of CTU wouldn't allow the weakness that exposing one's feelings to another would mean. Any weakness was dangerous in his line of work. It could jeopardize a mission and endanger the agents involved by causing the leader self-doubt, and a loss of confidence by the agents in him. These men and women relied on Jack, first as their leader in the field, and later as the man who planned the operations that would cause them to face danger. Any sign of weakness on his part would have been devastating to their safety, so Jack had learned early on to suck it up, to exude a bravado he didn't always feel, talking himself into a self-confidence that wasn't always there. It had been necessary for his agents' survival, and for his own sanity

His job had meant making instant decisions, often relying on only his gut instincts, and he thanked God that he'd been right so many more times than he'd been wrong. It was the ops that had gone wrong that had come so close to destroying him. They had haunted him, tormented him, memories of the deaths of agents he believed he had caused, of the horrible things his job had required of him. He'd gotten the results CTU demanded so many times, but the effect on him had been more than any mere mortal could bear, and parts of him had cracked. He'd managed to sublimate almost everything, although so much had surfaced in his dreams that he sometimes functioned more as an automaton than as a cognizant agent, for he spent so many sleepless nights. Many times he had willed himself to stay awake, unable, afraid, to face the horrors he would re-live in his sleep. More than once he'd thought of putting his gun to his head and pulling the trigger. But something had always held him back. Still, he'd resisted the idea of therapy. He still had to tough it out. That was what an agent did. That was what Jack Bauer, American hero, did.

But he'd finally reached the point where he couldn't continue like that. With retirement had come so much time for self-examination that he knew he was in worse shape than he'd ever acknowledged when he'd been with CTU. Even when he'd stopped being a field agent and had taken the job of directing operations things hadn't become easier. If anything they'd taken more of a toll, for he lived and died with each mission he'd planned, inflicting more and more psychological damage on himself whenever something went wrong and an agent died. He knew that missions failed, but he could never accept it. People, innocents, died because of mistakes he had made, both in the field and later directing ops from his office; he'd never stopped believing that, despite the terrible price he paid for his guilt throughout the many years of his government service. He'd thought, hoped really, that being removed from the day-to-day work of planning and preparing for missions would somehow make things easier, but he'd been wrong. Being removed from the execution of the ops had been far harder than being in the thick of it, for he was powerless to change things if they went bad, unable to use his instincts or his expertise to help. That, more than anything, ate him alive. It was part of his decision to retire. A major part, in fact.

Jack had learned to delegate authority, but he'd never been able to relinquish responsibility, either as a field commander or as a desk jockey. He'd always hated the phrase, first when he was a field agent for what it implied about the occupant of the chair, and then as it applied to him when he became one. He was responsible for his actions, and that meant responsibility for all of the people under him. When he'd worked in the military and then in ops he took it upon himself to protect the lives of all of his comrades, and that was proper. A leader was responsible for the lives of the people under his command. That these soldiers and agents were well-trained and were chosen for missions because of their particular skills didn't change that fact. That they too could, and did, make mistakes didn't absolve him of responsibility. He felt, no, he fervently believed that if he did his job right his people wouldn't be in a position to make mistakes. It was his credo that everything should go smoothly if he planned properly, a completely unrealistic notion especially in the world of covert ops, but a belief he'd never been able to shake. In fact, he'd never even tried to let it go. It was a basic part of his being, one of his greatest strengths, and one of his greatest flaws.

His workouts provided a needed release from his introspection. The intensity of re-living his past was sometimes overwhelming, and when he had gotten over his initial hesitance and had really started to delve into his memories he hadn't been able to stop. The doctor had warned him that he would burn out even more if he wasn't able to take the process in stages, for the memories and images that were flooding him had to be dealt with slowly. They had taken a lifetime to accumulate, and they couldn't be dispelled in just a few months. It would more likely take years, but he didn't tell Jack that; as a man who had actively met all challenges head-on Jack didn't think in those terms. He had rarely had to spend more than a few months planning a mission since the Cordilla virus crisis, when it had taken over a year to insinuate himself into the Salazar gang, and it was otherwise alien to his experience; if he allowed himself to think in those terms the idea was daunting. So he broke his introspection, the assignment given him by the doctor, into phases, as he had planned missions, and that made the idea more palatable. He had the doctor there to help him through it, a luxury he'd never allowed himself before, and it was making the experience bearable.

Not that he'd yet learned to forgive himself for anything. He was still in the stage of reliving his past, and coping with it was yet to come. Again the psychiatrist was easing him into it, helping him to identify his feelings as he finally permitted them to surface.

Chapter 2

He ran into one of his tennis buddies at the pool, and after they swam laps together they went out for a beer. Jack realized the irony of working out and then drinking, but it was one of the things he was now able to engage in without regret. He wasn't drinking to excess, and the companionship of sitting at a bar with a friend and shooting the breeze was good for him. He had never told any of his new friends about his work; they knew only that he'd worked for the government in some capacity, but the more perceptive among them sensed that he'd been much more than a bureaucrat. However, none of them felt close enough to probe, and for that Jack was grateful. It was one thing to analyze his own feelings; it would be something else to unburden himself to a civilian. Other than talking to his doctor it was something he'd never felt comfortable doing; it had been a major part of his problems with Teri, another thing, a major thing, he felt guilty about.

So they talked sports, baseball mostly, for the men in his tennis game weren't into hockey. Sometimes Chase accompanied him to watch the Kings, but Chase's real passion was football, a game Jack had never really enjoyed. Perhaps it was his own experiences with tactics that made a game with planning plays at its heart seem so unimportant to him. The beauty of a clean hip check was something he watched with respect and awe at hockey games. Physicality was an essential element of hockey, but there was a goal, in both senses of the word, to the contact implicit in the sport. He realized with his new-found insight that his occasional participation might make hockey more attractive to him; he had never played football. Despite the superb physical condition he'd maintained over the years he'd never been big or heavy enough to engage in that sport; speed and agility were more important in hockey than brute strength, and it suited him well. He thought again of joining a seniors league, and resolved to look into it.

After arranging to meet his tennis pal for dinner the following night Jack went back to the gym where he worked out in the weight room for another twenty minutes. Four miles around the outdoor track was all he wanted before he headed for the showers. He still had to go to the supermarket and the dry cleaners before he went home, errands he never enjoyed, but he knew they were necessary, and as with all of the things in his life he had never let anything stop him from doing what needed to be done. That everyday chores were not of the same type as carrying out a mission was something he recognized, but if it needed to be done he did it. He was still extraordinarily disciplined, as he had been throughout his life, and that would never change.

As he loaded his groceries into the car he saw a woman across the parking lot who reminded him of Teri, tall, athletic, slender, short dark hair, about the age Teri'd been at the time of her death. She was forever frozen in Jack's mind that way; he never thought of what she might have looked like had they grown older together. He felt the pain in his heart that he'd grown accustomed to, for over the years he had seen other women who reminded him of Teri. While he still grieved for her he'd made his peace with her death, and he'd dated several women over the years. But nothing had lasted.

He'd come close with Kate. He'd loved her, and then he'd let her go. She had stood by him through the tough times, through his time in Mexico, his addiction, his physical injuries, but he had never been able to commit fully to their relationship. He'd told himself that it was fear of losing her, and part of him believed it, for partly it was true. But there was a part of him that couldn't imagine a life with anyone other than Teri.

After several years together Kate had finally left. She needed more, she'd told him, she needed him to be there for her permanently, and not to just come in and out of her life, without explanation. She wanted children, and that was not something Jack could agree to. He felt he'd done such a lousy job at fatherhood that he wouldn't risk it again. Kate had tried to point out to him that Kim had grown up to be a lovely young woman, but Jack said that was all due to Teri. That Kate took this to mean that he believed that she couldn't do as well with a child of her own never occurred to Jack. He hadn't meant it to, but Kate was hurt by it, and it drove them further apart.

Finally she met someone else, a man who traveled only infrequently and wanted children as much as she. Kate had asked Jack to dinner to tell him that she was to be married, and was hurt again that Jack really meant it when he wished her well with someone else. Jack hadn't intended that to hurt her, either. Still, it did.

Kate had been gone from his life for many years now. At first they'd exchanged Christmas cards, but that had stopped after a year or two. They had each put the other in the past, with good memories as well as bad that they revisited only upon rare occasions. Kate had had children, a girl and a boy, and when Jack heard the news he'd sent them gifts. He had no idea what size or type of clothing he should send so he settled on stuffed animals, remembering how Kim had been inseparable from her toy kitten. He had even called her "Kitten" when she was little, until she began to protest that her name was Kim. At the time Jack saw this as a sign that his little girl was growing up, and was struck at the speed with which she was outgrowing childhood. It had saddened him, but it hadn't been enough of a motivation for him to leave work early enough to spend time with his family.

Both times Kate had sent him a note to express her appreciation at his thoughtfulness, but they hadn't spoken since that last dinner. She had moved on, and while Jack still missed her he would never intrude on the life she had made for himself.

Besides, he never stopped thinking about Teri. Their separation and his infidelity still weighed on him, and he knew his regret for the pain that he had caused her would never leave. All the psychotherapy in the world couldn't erase the thought of the hurt he had caused her. With time on his hands he imagined the things they could be doing together, although the doctor tried to convince him that he was torturing himself with this. But he couldn't let go of the image of his dead wife, who in his mind was always thirty-five.

He forced his mind back to the present and decided to pick up Chinese food for dinner. He wasn't in the mood to cook and he had no plans for that night, so he thought he might as well bring in something he enjoyed. There was a Kings game on TV and he was looking forward to it. It would be a distraction from sitting at the kitchen table alone again. Maybe they'd even win.

Chapter 3

He slept until eight the next morning, late for him. The only times in his adult life that he'd stayed in bed were when he was recuperating from injuries, other than once with a high fever from the flu. He'd never minded when Teri slept late; he remembered as a college student wanting to sleep around the clock, and sometimes he envied her ability to just laze around for an extra hour or two. But his days in the army had left a definite mark on him; since basic training he was an early riser.

After a bowl of Cheerios and some toast with jam he had three cups of coffee. The doctor had made him give up eggs for breakfast and cut back on red meat but he refused to give up caffeine. Kim made chicken or fish whenever he had dinner there, because she had never gotten over her fear when he'd had a heart attack so many years before. She also knew that the doctor was concerned about his cholesterol count. Jack had never had to watch what he ate, and he hated having to do it now. He hadn't put on weight – his frequent workouts made sure of that – but having restrictions on his diet grated on him. It was another sign of getting older, and Jack thought the gray in his hair was enough of that. He saw more lines around his eyes when he shaved now, but he knew that women still found him attractive. He was seeing a woman, Melissa, whose number he'd been given by Michelle. Jack had resisted the idea of blind dates over the years, unless he felt particularly lonely. Then he would sometimes call a friend of a friend or someone's widowed sister-in-law and go out for a few dinners before deciding it wasn't such a good idea after all. He didn't expect to love again.

He decided not to write that day. It didn't happen often. His discipline extended to making himself sit down at the computer virtually every morning, and eventually the words would come. Occasionally he gave himself a break. His thoughts of Teri the day before were still very much with him and he didn't want to write when he was in that mood. Time for a day off, he thought. But he couldn't think of anything to do.

Jack decided to bake. Kim had signed him up for cooking lessons when he'd taken the desk job with CTU, and he'd laughed at the idea. But she knew something he didn't: he'd have more time on his hands, more regular hours, at least when there were no active ops under way, and she didn't want him to eat junk food all the time on the increasing occasions when he was home alone at night. When he was a field agent at CTU he'd taken a dinner break whenever possible, going with Tony, Michelle, Kim or Chase or whoever else could get away to one of several good restaurants in the area. When they couldn't go out they'd bring dinner in, and after a while fast food became unacceptable. So they scouted out the area and found good places with good food and reasonable prices, and one or another of them would go out to pick up an order they'd place. Kim knew that with Jack home by himself almost every night he'd be tempted to grab a burger or a bucket of fried chicken, so she'd arranged for the lessons.

To humor her he'd gone to the course and he found that he enjoyed it. Teri had been a very good cook, careful about nutrition, and occasionally going through phases. At one point she had made spinach every day for three weeks, until both Jack and Kim threatened to lock the kitchen and bring in pizza every night. After she promised to be good – they demanded a specific pledge of no more spinach – she went through another phase: brussels sprouts. "What is with you and vegetables?" Kim asked more than once. "I know they're good for me, but come on, Mom. Brussels sprouts?" After two weeks of that Jack had backed Kim up on that one, too, and they repeated their lock-the-kitchen-and-bring-in-pizza threat. But Teri called their bluff: she agreed to bring in Chinese food, but all she ordered were steamed vegetables. They had a family meeting that night, and Jack and Kim stood their ground, at the same time they threw in the towel. They said okay to vegetables, but they demanded a variety, and moderation. Occasional omelettes, but not always with vegetables, and peanut butter was okay. Ice cream would occasionally be allowed through the door, and Jack could sometimes barbecue hot dogs along with meat hamburgers and chicken. It didn't always have to be veggie burgers. They found they'd had a really close call. Teri had gotten a recipe for carrot cake brownies, but promised to lose it.

As Jack walked back into the kitchen for more coffee he pictured Teri standing at the stove. Although she'd never lived in the town house he knew exactly how she'd look. She'd been standing in a kitchen the first time he ever saw her. He smiled. She'd been baking brownies then.

He got out the mixing bowls and baking tins and started to measure the ingredients for brownies. Kim had given him Teri's recipe, sans carrots of course. He'd always loved the smell of chocolate and he couldn't understand people who didn't. He was hardly a gourmet, but he appreciated good food, and especially good brownies.

He had grown comfortable enough in the kitchen that he didn't have to devote his full concentration while he measured the ingredients. He wondered idly what was happening at CTU, but he cut the thought off. He was out of it now, for good. He couldn't go back if he wanted to. He no longer had what it takes.

Beating eggs and melting butter were mindless activities, so he let his mind wander in another direction. A whiff of chocolate brought back different memories, and suddenly he was in a different kitchen, more than fifty years before.

Chapter 4

"Thanks, Mom," Jack called out as he entered the house on a run and saw the brownie and milk she'd left on the table. He'd just hit a double in his Little League game and he was feeling really good. His mom had said she'd come to the game but his little sister Carol had a cold, so she hadn't been able to. Jack didn't mind. His mom got to almost all of his games and school plays. Sometimes his dad did, too, but not nearly as often. He was a very important man on the army base, Jack knew, and he was very busy. Being a colonel was a big responsibility and his dad was in charge of a lot of people. They depended on him, his mom said. Jack was very proud of his dad.

Jack loved it when soldiers saluted his dad. His father had taught him how when he was just two, and Jack liked to return the soldiers' salutes just like his father did. The sight of the little boy walking next to the tall man, both saluting, brought smiles from the people they passed.

Jack was enjoying Japan. It was the fourth country he'd lived in and so far it was his favorite. Everybody liked baseball over here, and Jack and his dad sometimes went to see the Tokyo Giants play. His father wore civilian clothes then, of course, so the people at the game didn't know he was in the military.

His father had been transferred to Hawaii just two weeks after Jack was born in Los Angeles and Jack had then been too young to go on a plane, so his father flew over first and found a house for them at the base. After a few more weeks Jack went on a plane for the first time, thankfully sleeping most of the way to Oahu, and his parents always laughed when Jack insisted that he remembered it. He knew why they laughed but he insisted it was true. That he'd been on so many other flights while so young didn't change things. He swore that he remembered that first one when he was five weeks old.

After Hawaii they'd lived in the Philippines, then Germany, Korea and Japan. Although he went to the base school where the only language taught was English, Jack thought he was pretty good with languages. He could say hello, good-bye, please and thank you in Spanish, German, Korean and Japanese, and people said he had a good ear. He still wasn't sure what that meant, he had two ears and they both seemed to work the same, but when he'd first heard it when he was four he hadn't questioned it. Now, at eight, it didn't seem important.

"Well, how was the game, Son?" his mother asked as she came down the stairs. His sister Carol had finally fallen asleep after the medicine had dulled the pain of her earache, and Janet Bauer was glad to sit down for the first time that afternoon.

"Great, Mom," Jack mumbled, his mouth full of brownie. "I hit a double!"

"That's wonderful, Jack," his mother said enthusiastically. "I'm sorry I missed it."

"S'okay, Mom. How's Carol?"

"She's still got a fever and an earache, but I'm sure she'll be fine. She's finally asleep, thank goodness. She cried a lot today."

Jack stuffed his last bite of brownie into his mouth. "Can I have s'more please, Mom?"

"'May I,' Jack, not 'can I.' And yes you may." She poured him more milk and cut another fresh-baked brownie from the tin. "But that's all. Your father said he should be home on time, so dinner will be at six-thirty. Why don't you get started on your homework?"

"Can't I watch some TV first, Mom? Just for an hour?"

Janet Bauer looked at her son affectionately. She said automatically, "'May I,' Jack. 'May I watch TV?'" She taught English at the base school while Carol was in kindergarten, and she was a stickler for grammar. But she relented. "How much work do you have, Jack?" She had a rule that homework came before TV, but occasionally she made an exception. Jack was a very good boy, he always completed his schoolwork on time, and he usually got straight A's. A break never hurt, she thought. He deserves it.

Chapter 5

The ringing of the doorbell broke Jack's reverie. He signed for a fedex package and took it into the kitchen. He tried to read the return address, to no avail. He gingerly shook it, and took it outside to open it. Old habits die hard. He certainly wasn't expecting a bomb, but he still had enemies out there, and he knew caution was still necessary.

As he pulled back the strip to open the box the contents spilled out. It was a sweater in a color that matched his grey hair, hand-knit. But there was no note, no card. Jack smelled the sweater, but there was only a scent of wool. No indication of a poison, no hint of a toxin. Still, he thought, I'd better have it cleaned first.

He took the sweater and the box back into the kitchen and again peered at the return address, but he had no better luck in deciphering it. He was extremely curious and thought of turning the box over to CTU to do a fingerprint check, but he realized that he was being silly. The sweater was innocuous, and why should he question a gift? But the oddness of the unexpected present stayed with him.

He started to put on his running clothes but remembered the brownies in the oven, but he put on his walkman anyway. Some Miles Davis would be good for a break. But soon his mind began to wander again, and as he sat in the kitchen he was no longer aware of the music.

His thoughts returned to the house in Japan. It was dinnertime, and his father had just come home. As he changed out of his uniform Jack talked with him in the bedroom. There wasn't much time for them to be alone together, and this little ritual was something that had evolved to the pleasure of them both.

"I heard about your double today," Mark Bauer said. Jack lit up. "How'd you hear, Dad?" He was thrilled. His dad had followed his game!

"Oh, I hear a lot of things, Jack," his dad replied. "Especially when it comes to my son."

Jack couldn't have been prouder. Even though his father was very busy he managed to find out things that mattered to his boy. It was one of the things that made them extremely close.

Five year old Carol still wasn't feeling well but she wasn't fidgeting at the table. As Jack and his father sat down the family joined hands while Mark said Grace. Then it was time to dig in to the pot roast, mashed potatoes and green beans that Janet had prepared.

There was little conversation during the actual eating, as Jack had been told many times not to talk with his mouth full, but it was his turn to fidget. He wanted to tell his dad all about the game. He ignored the rule and opened his mouth before he had swallowed, but a look from his mother reminded him of what he had apparently so briefly forgotten. His parents were always willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. Jack was punished from time to time, of course, but only for major infractions, and he had graduated from "time outs" to being sent to his room, but never without supper, and neither of his parents had ever raised a hand to him. His mom and dad were never cruel, and although he groused about his infrequent punishments Jack appreciated their fairness.

After Jack finished eating he eagerly told his parents all about the game, which his team had won, 10 to 8. Although his dad knew about his double Jack filled in the details, including especially that there were already two strikes against him when he finally connected with the ball. He'd driven in two runs, and had really helped his team. Jack was as proud of that as he was of his hit. He was understanding the importance of teamwork, although he couldn't have put that into words. He just knew he was glad when the Yankees, his Yankees, won. He had no way of knowing that the Yankees, the ones in New York, would one day become anathema to him, for the many times they beat the LA Dodgers.

"Want to go to a Giants game, Son?" Mark asked. He could take Sunday off, too, and he loved watching baseball with Jack, loved doing anything where he could spend time with Jack. He knew his son loved to watch pro ball at the stadium in Tokyo.

"Yeah, Dad!" Jack was excited. Another game, and especially with his dad. It didn't get better than this.

"I won't be able to go this time, Jack," Janet said. "I don't think Carol will be well enough to leave with the babysitter."

"Do you mind, Mom?" Jack asked, pretty sure of the answer.

"No, Jack, I don't. Dad and I already discussed this. It's fine. You two go."

"Thanks, Mom," Jack said, meaning it, but he really wasn't surprised. It was just like his mother to put her children first. His dad, too. Nothing was more important to them than their kids.

"Is your game at one tomorrow, Jack?" Mark asked.

"Yeah. We're playing the Dodgers. We should win. They suck, Dad."

"Jack!" his parents said in unison. "You know you're not supposed to use language like that," his father continued.

"Sorry, Dad. It slipped out. It won't happen again." He meant it. He hated to disappoint his parents. They were more important to him than anything.

After dinner his parents played Scrabble while Jack watched TV. Then Jack and his father sat down at the chess board. Mark plotted his game with military precision, and was pleased that Jack was also learning to play strategically. Mark wanted all of his officers to play chess, and many complied. He was not surprised that the ones who wouldn't learn didn't score as high in their field exercises. Jack will be a good soldier one day, Mark thought. If that's what he wants. Mark wasn't going to pressure Jack to follow in his footsteps. Jack was bright enough to do anything, and the decision would be his.

Mark was smart enough not to let Jack win, at least not too often. Jack was highly competitive and he would have been insulted if his father had thrown the game. He suspected that the times he won were because his father had deliberately lost, but it didn't happen frequently enough for him to really question it. Mark knew that winning sometimes would give Jack confidence, and he believed that self-confidence was crucial, no matter what the setting was.

When Jack went to bed sleep did not come easily. He was excited about the things in his life, his hit at the game, winning at chess, and going to see the Giants with his dad. Eventually he fell asleep and he dreamed of hitting a homer the next day, but he was playing for the LA Dodgers instead of his Little League Yankees. It was a great dream, and it put him in a wonderful mood for the next day.

Chapter 6

Jack woke up early to the sound of Carol crying. Her earache was back and her fever as well, and Janet was trying to soothe her as she waited for the Tylenol to take effect. Jack was too excited to go back to sleep so he went downstairs, where Janet was trying to get Carol to drink something. She hadn't had anything in two days, and Janet was concerned that she was getting dehydrated. Carol wouldn't take anything, though, so Janet just held her, waiting for the painkiller to kick in.

Jack loved his little sister and was upset to see her so unhappy. He poured himself some orange juice and got a bowl for his Cheerios before he sat at the table with his mother.

"I'm sorry Carol woke you, Jack. She had a bad night."

"It's okay, Mom. I was gonna get up anyway. I can't wait for the game."

Janet was bemused by her son. His enthusiasm for just about anything, especially sports, made him the quintessential boy. A happy, well-adjusted boy, his mom knew. He's going to be a fine young man.

Both of his parents were impressed with how gentle and caring Jack was with Carol. He was exasperated by her from time to time, of course, especially when she got into his things. He remembered how, when she was two, she had come upon his collection of baseball cards and had chewed one of them. His father had gotten him a whole new pack so he could search for a replacement, but a Maury Wills of his beloved Dodgers was rare, and Jack still hadn't found another one. He'd forgiven Carol, of course, and learned to put his cards way out of her reach. If he didn't close his bedroom door tightly she still wandered into his room sometimes, but he was learning to be careful about that, so her marauding adventures were nowhere near as frequent.

Mark Bauer returned home promptly at 12:00 as promised and quickly changed into "civvies" while Jack was putting on his uniform and cleats. They walked together to the field which was near base housing, so that Mark could watch batting practice. Jack wasn't surprised that other soldiers still saluted, for he'd learned that even when his father wasn't in uniform it was appropriate. Still, salutes or not, he enjoyed walking next to the tall man who was so interested in everything he did.

When they got to the field there were far more parents then usual. Even on a military base many people had week-ends off. Jack went to the area that passed for a dugout where he joined his fellow Yankees. The coach gave them the usual pep talk while his father found a seat in the bleachers. Even though he was dressed in civilian clothes people showed Mark a great deal of deference; he was their commanding officer, after all. But he was just a dad that afternoon, there to cheer on his son and his team, and the other parents quickly forgot his status. Or they seemed to, at least. A colonel was always a colonel, and a superior officer always commanded respect.

Jack's team was deemed the 'home' team for that game, so they took the field first and would bat second. Jack played shortstop, one of the most demanding positions, and Mark looked with pride at his son's easy catches as the boys threw the ball around to warm up. He's really a good player, he thought. And a great kid.

Jack was intense as he leaned in for the first pitch. It was a grounder, easily fielded by the second baseman, and Jack had backed him up as was appropriate for a shortstop. Two more outs followed in quick succession.

It was the Yankees' turn. As the other team took the field Jack waited for his turn at bat. He was fourth in the rotation, the 'clean-up' hitter, the position always reserved for the best batter. Mark knew that Jack was proud of that, and rightly so.

His first two teammates went down, one on a strikeout, the other with a pop-up. Jack's friend Mike, the catcher, batted third. He hit a grounder that went between the first and second basemen, and Jack cheered with the other boys. The first runner was on. It was Jack's turn to go to the batter's box.

Jack didn't like the first pitch, so he let it go. The umpire called it a 'ball.' Jack swung at the second pitch but didn't connect, so it was an even count. Jack swung at the next pitch, too, but missed. The next one was a ball, and then Jack hit a grounder, right at the second baseman. He fielded it easily, and Jack's side was out. Jack walked back to the dugout, muttering to himself. "Dammit," he said. He had left Mike on base. When he realized what he had said Jack was glad that his father hadn't heard him. That was one of the things that could really get his parents mad at him, so he tried not to curse, but a lot of his friends did, and sometimes he just forgot.

There were only two hits during the next three innings, so Jack was up again in the fourth inning. He swung at the first pitch and heard the sweetest sound: wood hitting hard ball. The ball soared out to far center field, and when the player bobbled it Jack started to run. He made it all the way to second before the other team got the ball back to the infield. He hadn't hit many doubles before, and he was really glad that his dad was there to watch. Bobby, the pitcher, was up next, and he managed to hit the ball over the first baseman's head, so Jack scored easily. Bobby made it to second, where he tagged up. The next batter on Jack's team hit a single, so Bobby also scored. Jack didn't think he'd ever been so happy.

There were more outs than hits after that, but the other team managed to tie it up at two-two because of errors by his teammates, and Jack was getting frustrated. He struck out his next time at bat, mostly because he was swinging at bad pitches, and his dad saw that Jack wasn't taking his time to look at the ball, he just swung at everything. Mark couldn't speak to Jack, of course; parents weren't allowed to talk to their kids during the game. But Jack's coach talked to him and managed to settle him down.

Jack was the first batter in the ninth inning with the score tied, and he took his coach's words to heart. He took his time and didn't swing until the third pitch. As his bat connected with the ball he knew he had hit it well. The ball soared over the head of the outfielders and over the fence. Jack scored, his heart soaring. His first home run, and he had broken the tie. Because Jack's team batted second that was all it took to win the game, three to two. Jack was the hero, but that didn't matter as much as his father cheering in the stands. It was even better than his teammates mobbing him at home plate, hugging him and pounding him on the back.

As the hero of the game Jack was given the honor of ordering first when the coach took the team for ice cream. He decided to try a new flavor, brownies and cream, and he didn't mind it at all when the cone started to drip. His mom would get the stains out. She'd only be sorry that she hadn't been able to go to the game.

The buzz of the oven timer brought Jack back to his own kitchen. They were ready. He'd forever associate the smell and the taste of brownies with one of the best days of his life.


	2. Part II

The Times of His Life

Part II

Chapter 1

Jack's mood had improved tremendously with his recollection of the day of his first home run. He had accepted Kim's invitation to dinner and was thrilled to see that her whole family was there, his grandchildren and their spouses. Melanie, his oldest grandchild, was pregnant, and the baby was due that month. Rather than make him feel old it made him feel happy. A new generation, with all that promised. A continuation of Teri.

At first Jack had been uncomfortable when Kim had named her second daughter Teri, but she had grown into the name. She was twenty-three now, a beauty, Jack thought, tall, thin and dark-haired like her grandmother, with her same grace and wicked sense of humor. She shared many of Teri's mannerisms, more in fact than Kim did. When his granddaughter spoke to him on the phone Jack could close his eyes and hear Teri, his Teri, talking to him. Far from disturbing him, it provided comfort, for he knew that part of Teri lived on.

Kim had turned into a good cook, although not as adventurous as her mother had been. At least she doesn't get on vegetable kicks, he recalled fondly. He and Kim sometimes joked about spinach and brussels sprouts, a memory they shared. The others didn't understand, but that was all right with Jack and Kim. Some moments, even seemingly unimportant ones, were best kept private.

Jack had brought a tin of brownies and everyone happily devoured them. Kim knew that the dessert brought back more memories for her and her dad, happy memories, rare among the others they had, so something to be treasured. Jack had finally explained to Kim in detail why he and her mother had separated, for he decided that such an important part of her formative years was something she had to understand. He knew Teri had talked of this with Kim when they were held captive by Gaines, but he also knew that Teri had never placed the blame on Jack. She hadn't wanted to damage Kim's relationship with her dad. But Kim had never been told the details, never been told how Jack had so thoroughly shut Teri out.

Jack never told Kim of his affair with Nina, for it would only hurt her, he knew, and he felt that was a part that she didn't have to know. It was enough for her to know that he had let Teri down, and that it hadn't been her fault, contrary to what Kim had thought all these years. She'd always believed that her mother had forced her dad out of the house without reason, and she'd always resented her mother's relationship with that doctor. Learning the truth made her feel better, for she realized that her resentment of Teri, her anger at her, was misplaced, and had colored her feelings and memories of her mom for so long. Learning the truth was a tremendous relief for Kim; she wasn't really mad at Jack for his withdrawal from Teri, but she was very upset that he had kept this from her for so long. Kim, never reticent, told him this, and Jack was sorry that he hadn't told Kim years before, for that had caused her to continue to have negative memories of her mother. Jack had tried to explain that he hadn't told her earlier because, as always, he wanted to protect her, but they both realized that that had been a cop-out. Jack had actually, only, protected himself from Kim's disappointment in him. He had acted selfishly by causing Kim to continue her feelings of animosity and disappointment with her mother. Just another reason to feel guilty, Jack knew, but as with all of his memories he was powerless to change the past. He hoped his confession to Kim would help her deal with Teri's loss so many years ago, would help her end her ambivalence towards the woman who had loved her more than life.

Melanie was talking about the names she and her husband Doug had chosen for their expected baby. If it was a boy they were going to name him Jack, and if it was a girl, Jaclyn. Her grandfather was stunned. What an honor! To have his great-grandchild named after him was something he'd never expected. He only cared that the baby be healthy, of course; its name was way down on the list of important things, but he admitted to himself that he was thrilled just the same. The prospect of becoming a great-grandfather pleased him even more than he had thought it would. He hoped the baby would be born soon. He wanted another child in the family, even if it was named Tom, Dick or Harriet. But the thought of a little Jack or Jaclyn made the anticipation even sweeter.

After a while Jack realized that he was getting tired, and after he kissed them all good night he headed for his SUV. He hadn't had any beer or wine with dinner and he was fully alert. Although he was concentrating on the road he didn't see the pick-up that ran the red light and slammed into the driver's door. Jack's airbag deployed, but it didn't help him much. He was thrown sideways away from the collision but his seatbelt kept him from going too far, and then he was pulled back to the broken window. A piece of glass pierced his neck, and he started to bleed heavily. He soon lost consciousness.

Chapter 2

The ambulance attendants tried to staunch the bleeding, but they weren't having much success. Jack's heart went haywire, for it had to pump much harder as it tried to cope with the loss of blood. The attendants called ahead to the hospital and the doctors and nurses prepared to rush Jack into surgery. His wound was critical. And Jack had a history of heart trouble.

They cut his clothes off him as they prepared to get him into the operating room and were stunned by the many scars that were on his body. This man had survived a lot, they realized, and they didn't know if his prior injuries would affect the surgery they were about to perform.

His wallet still contained his CTU identification card, and a call there produced Kim's number. She and Chase rushed to the hospital, but of course they couldn't see Jack. He was already in the O.R.

One of the nurses described Jack's wound to them, and they understood from the loss of blood that Jack might not survive. Kim clung to Chase as they waited. It was five hours before the surgeon came to talk to them.

He told them it was touch-and-go. The wound to his neck had been treated, and that wasn't the problem any longer, they were told. Jack was receiving transfusions and they were helping his heart, but due to the loss of blood it had already been damaged. They had to wait to see just how bad the damage was. Only time would tell.

Jack's grandchildren arrived at the hospital and joined their parents in the vigil. They were distraught that their grandpa was near death.

Chapter 3

They all sat anxiously in the waiting room, fearing the next report from the ICU. The doctors had been extremely pessimistic about Jack's chances for survival, and Kim was near hysteria. Tony and Michelle had come to the hospital, and from there Tony directed CTU to investigate the possibility that the "accident" had instead been a deliberate attempt to kill Jack. His retirement from CTU notwithstanding, Jack still had many enemies eager for revenge.

The police were not happy with the feds' involvement in the investigation but they were powerless to stop it. Federal jurisdiction prevailed over the local cops, and they were required to share all information with CTU. But it was a one-way street. The CTU agents didn't have to reveal anything to the local police.

None of them knew about the sweater that had earlier been delivered to Jack.

Chapter 4

The waiting room vigil continued through the night. Jack's grandchildren were as worried as their parents as they awaited further news of his condition. The terrible taste of the numerous cups of coffee from the nearby vending they consumed went unnoticed. Melanie wasn't permitted caffeine this late in her pregnancy, so she dozed on the couch, her head on her husband's lap. But she awoke when the doctor came to talk to them.

"There isn't much change," he told them. "Loss of blood strained his heart, because it had to pump harder to get oxygen through his body. He had a heart attack, and it stopped his heart. We were able to bring him back by defibrillating. Those are the paddles you see on TV where they shock the heart into beating again," he finished unnecessarily. All of them knew the torture Jack had endured when his heart had been stopped by electric shock and had caused Jack's earlier heart attack. Because of his superb condition then, which had let his heart work at 110 capacity, the attack had reduced his heart function to only 95 and he had still been able to fully work at that level, but this was different. Years of brutal physical activity and further torture caused a slow diminution of his heart's capacity to perform its function, and he was now paying a dear price. His family prayed that that same physical strength would pull him through this crisis.

Near dawn the doctor again entered the waiting room. "He seems to be holding his own so far," he said, "but his condition is very grave. All we can do is wait. If you are so inclined, I would suggest you contact your priest or minister."

These last words terrified them more than anything. Although Jack wasn't particularly religious his parents had been more so, and Kim and Chase knew that he had placed his faith in God more than once, especially when things were beyond his control and he had felt that only a Divine Being could change what seemed to be inevitable, horrible, results.

Chase went to call the minister at the church Jack sometimes attended with his family, the same one who had presided at the christenings and wedding ceremonies of his grandchildren. The Reverend Paulson said he would come to the hospital immediately, and Chase thanked him profusely. He hoped that the minister would be able to provide strength to Kim, something Chase so far seemed unable to do. She was on the verge of falling apart, and any support the minister could bring was sorely welcome.

Melanie abruptly sat up, startling all of them. "I think my water just broke," she said. She was three weeks early and they were all alarmed. "I'll call the doctor," her husband Lee said, and went to phone Kim's obstetrician. It was only seven in the morning, so all he could do was leave a message for the doctor to call him. Lee couldn't use his cellphone in the hospital. Instead, he left the number of the ICU, something the nurse had only reluctantly agreed to until Lee explained the circumstances. She then told him to bring Kim right to the obstetrics floor of the hospital so her progress could be monitored. Melanie grudgingly agreed as she felt the first labor pains. She didn't want to leave the waiting room where the doctor would sometimes tell them Jack's condition, but her husband and parents insisted. She had to protect Jack's great-grandchild, they reminded her. The news of Jack or Jaclyn's birth would help his recovery. They were all trying to be positive, despite the danger his condition meant.

Kim and Chase now worried about Melanie as well as Jack. Chase from time to time went to see his daughter, who seemed to be doing fine despite the increasing force of her labor pains. After reports from Chase, Kim finally tore herself away from waiting for a report from Jack's doctor to go see Melanie. Lee never left his wife's side, and Kim was pleased at his devotion to her daughter. When the obstetrician spoke to them around three she told the expectant couple and grandmother-to-be that the baby was ready to be born. Lee went to change into scrubs so he could go into the delivery room, and Kim went to find Chase. Together they stood in the maternity waiting room, too excited to sit, until Lee came to them. "It's a boy," he said excitedly. "A little Jack. He's doing fine, and so is Melanie. There were no problems. They're taking the baby to the nursery now, so you can go see him. I'm waiting for them to take Mel to her room, and then I'll go to the nursery."

Both Kim and Chase had tears in their eyes, both with relief that Melanie was fine, and because there was a healthy little Jack in their lives. They only hoped that the baby's great-grandfather would survive to see him.

Chapter 5

"I'm afraid there's more bad news," Jack's doctor reported. "Two broken ribs showed up on the new x-rays, and they're making it harder for him to breathe. That means there's less oxygen in his blood, and that only makes his heart have to pump harder. It's not good," he concluded.

This report only deepened the family's pessimism. They knew he was a fighter, but even Jack had his limits. That he might never see baby Jack added to their despair.

With the minister the family joined hands in the waiting room, silently praying for Jack's survival. They were all close, and that was in large part because Jack had come to realize that nothing was more important than family. The grim events of his past had shown him that nothing mattered more, and fortunately he'd learned it before Kim's kids were born. His involvement in their lives was a sea change for him, but it felt absolutely right. He would always regret that he hadn't known it when he was younger, when it would have made a difference to Teri and Kim, but he couldn't change the past. If he was learning anything from examining where he'd come from, it was that. What was done was done. Only the future mattered. Provided you lived in the present. You couldn't let the past destroy you.

Kim was permitted into the ICU once a day for only 15 minutes. She squeezed her father's hand as she gently spoke to him, telling him about the baby in the hope that he could hear her and would have another reason to survive. But there was no obvious change in his condition, and Kim knew that she couldn't let him know how discouraged she was. She could only hope that what she told him somehow penetrated his subconscious, and would stir him to fight even harder.

Jack didn't react, and when Kim was told that her visiting period was over she tearfully admitted to herself that she might never see him alive again. The doctor's words made her doubt that he would live another day.

As Kim re-entered the waiting room the others saw the total despair on her face. But at least he's still alive, they thought, desperately holding onto any hope they could muster.

The minister took Kim aside and spoke with her, trying to help her maintain her belief that Jack had a chance, while preparing her as best he could for Jack's possible death. He was trying to help the family walk a tightrope, and they were all off-balance.

They'd all been awake for more than 24 hours, and Chase thought ruefully of the other days when time had been so critical. Then Jack had been as alive and active as anyone, wrestling with seemingly insurmountable problems and using his wits and ingenuity to solve crises that could prove deadly to his country. Like the others, Chase could only pray that some of Jack's resoluteness would carry him through this present ordeal.

Kim, Chase and their children took turns going to the nursery to see the baby. Lee stayed with Melanie, holding little Jack when he was brought to Melanie's room to nurse. Lee thought his heart would burst with happiness when he saw his wife feeding their baby, but he too prayed that his grandfather-in-law would live, for he had come to know him well and understood the devotion Melanie, her siblings and parents felt for Jack. But like the others, he didn't hold out much hope. That Jack would survive seemed less and less likely as the doctors gave them increasingly pessimistic reports. They were all starting to lose hope. Jack's end seemed imminent.

Chapter 6

In the ICU the nurses and doctors carefully watched the monitors attached to Jack's body, and saw the heart indications slowly decline. The defibrillation machine had been put right next to his bed, and its use seemed inevitable, but even that would probably not be enough. The prognosis was terrible.

Jack, meanwhile, struggled to regain consciousness. As weak as he was he was fighting to live. He wasn't ready to die yet. He was trying to garner his strength to overcome his injuries, as he had so many times before. He would fight this as he had fought so many traumas inflicted in his past. He had too much to live for.

When Kim was permitted back into the ICU she again told him about Melanie's baby. Although Jack still didn't have the strength to open his eyes the doctors saw an almost imperceptible change in his vital signs. They indicated that he was getting stronger, albeit slightly, and they began to have hope. The staff realized that this was attributable to Kim's presence, and they agreed to let her stay at Jack's bedside.

Kim continued to talk to Jack, telling him more about the baby, how he looked, how alert he was, that he was taking avidly to his feedings, all the good things that Jack would want to know. These words started to sink in, giving Jack more reason to get well.

As he drifted in and out of consciousness Jack struggled to let Kim know that he heard her, but he was still too weak to acknowledge her words to him, although the doctors continued to see a slight improvement in his condition. Kim was beginning to understand the significance of the numbers on the monitors, and she, too, was heartened by what she saw. She continued talking to Jack in a soft voice, her words increasingly penetrating. She'd never stop trying to reach him. He was her rock, the person who had always been there for her, the man who had risked everything to save her, the man who loved her more than anything.

At the same time that Jack tried to show Kim that he heard her he was unable to concentrate on her words. His mind drifted to another time, when he had first known the horror of the adult world.


	3. Part III

Part III

Chapter 1

Jack caught the ball easily. He wanted his father to throw harder. He liked grounders and high ones but his dad seemed distracted. Mark Bauer had quickly agreed when his son asked him to play catch but he seemed miles away. Jack didn't take it personally. He knew his dad really wanted to just veg out, but he tried to be available to his son whenever he was home, and Jack appreciated it.

His mom watched through the kitchen window. She taught at the base school while Jack and his younger sister Carol were in class. He knew that his mother worked hard, although the concept of balancing work with family had not yet been described as such.

Jack was proud of his father, too. Mark Bauer had been transferred, and now commanded an army base in Europe, and although he worked very hard he always tried to make time for his son. He attended as many of Jack's school plays and Little League games as he possibly could, and now that Jack was learning hockey he tried to get to his scrimmages, while seeing Carol's plays and dance recitals with the same devotion. Neither Mark nor Janet missed a conference with their children's teachers. They treated their children equally. Both believed that girls should have the same opportunities as boys, and although Mark was base commander and was not directly responsible for the children who lived on the base, he exerted what influence he could to see that girls were not short-changed. Carol would be eligible for Little League as soon as she was old enough. And if she wanted to learn hockey, well, he'd see about that, too.

Jack was as happy as a nine-year-old boy could be. He thought that his parents babied him, that they tried to protect him all of the time and that almost made him angry, but he knew his parents only wanted what was best for him. Some of his friends hardly saw their parents. A lot of the kids' parents were divorced, and the courts still mostly gave custody of kids to their mothers, so if their moms weren't in the military they returned to the United States. Because of that they only saw their dads when they had leave. That struck Jack as very sad. He was glad his parents were together. There was no screaming or yelling in his house, and any disagreements between his mother and father, which were rare, were resolved quickly, and peacefully. And his dad was home whenever it was possible. Jack wasn't being pulled in two directions. He didn't have to favor one of his parents over the other.

Jack asked his dad if he could try some batting practice, and Mark said yes, wearily. Jack realized how tired his father was and quickly changed his mind. He said, "You know what, Dad, I think I'd really like to hit some tennis balls against the wall." Mark Bauer readily agreed, not realizing his nine-year-old son was perceptive enough to pick up on his fatigue. Jack went to the garage to get his racquet and a ball while Mark went inside. Jack went to the side of the garage where there was no window, and Mark settled into his recliner where he quickly fell asleep.

Jack was becoming pretty good at tennis. Most of his friends weren't interested in it, though, so he rarely got a chance to play. He decided to practice his serve, but without a net there he couldn't tell if he was hitting it right. The only real practice he got was when one of his parents could spare the time to play with him, and that wasn't very often. They gave their son whatever they could, including their attention, but even that had limits.

A new kid had moved in down the block, and Jack saw him leave his house, baseball glove in hand. The boy, Mike, called out to him, "Hey, Jack, wanna play some catch?" Jack quickly said, "Sure, Mike. I'll get my glove."

Jack went into the garage and exchanged his racquet for his glove and walked towards the other boy. They stood in the quiet street and threw the ball to each other. They threw harder with each toss, and soon they settled into a rhythm, each boy trying to outdo the other. Whatever he played, no matter what the sport, Jack always tried to win, and he usually did. He was a very good athlete.

After twenty minutes on that hot day both boys decided they'd had enough. Jack asked Mike if he wanted to go swimming and Mike quickly said yes. Mike hadn't yet been to the pool on the base. Jack would have loved to go to the pool more often, but his parents said no unless there was what they called a 'responsible adult' present. They didn't believe a child belonged in a pool without an adult to watch him, even when there were lifeguards. Jack thought they were being over-protective, as usual, but it wasn't in his nature to challenge them. He obeyed their rules, even though he thought they still treated him like a baby. He didn't need a babysitter anymore, but they insisted. There were a bunch of rules, and Jack accepted most of them, but there were some he was determined to change, starting with the babysitter.

Mike said his parents had said he could go swimming, so Jack's mom said he could go to the pool with his new friend. She knew that some of her friends were there with their kids and they would watch after Jack. He raced into his bedroom to change, which he seemed to do in less than 30 seconds. Grabbing the towel his mother handed him, he was out the door and at Mike's house at a run.

Jack and Mike splashed and jumped and played tag in the pool for over an hour. Then Mike's father came to the pool. He was in uniform, so he clearly had been at work. "Where's your mom, Son?" the man asked.

"She went to play golf this morning, Dad," Mike replied. "She left before I got up."

"Did she say when she'd be home?" Mike's dad asked.

Jack was surprised when Mike said, "Nah, her note said just to find some friends to hang out with."

"Okay," said his father. "Just keep busy. Mom and I are going out for dinner. There's pizza in the freezer."

Jack couldn't believe that Mike had gone swimming without his parents' permission, without them at least knowing about it, especially since Mike had said his parents knew he had gone to the pool. Jack wouldn't dream of going swimming without his parents' okay, and he was upset that Mike had lied to him. Jack was honest by nature, and it would never occur to him to lie, even to another boy. He became uncomfortable there with Mike, so he told Mike he had to go and headed for home.

Jack didn't want to mislead his mother, so he told her that Mike's parents hadn't really given him permission to go to swimming. Mike's father hadn't been upset to see Mike and Jack in the pool when Mike's mother wasn't there, hadn't even known that Mike had gone swimming. Mrs. Bauer wasn't happy with what Jack told her, but she was proud of him for telling her the truth. She wasn't sure she wanted Jack to spend time with Mike. Of her son she thought, he's going to be a good man. Truthful, and concerned for others. That's important. She and Mark were raising a fine young man.

Jack went to his room, stripped off his bathing suit and headed for the shower. He liked his blonde hair; he knew the girls, who he was beginning to think were human, said it was cute, and he wanted to get the chlorine out of it. The stuff made it feel ycchy, too. Letting it stay in would make your hair turn green, he'd heard. Ycch, he thought again.

As he toweled off Jack saw himself in the mirror. I'm a man, he thought proudly. I'm finally growing hair, and everything is definitely bigger. He checked himself whenever he showered. The changes weren't very noticeable, he allowed, because he took a shower every day, but they were definitely there. Finally, he thought. He'd been afraid puberty would never come.

Mike invited him to sleep over, but Jack's mom said no. She knew that a grown-up wouldn't be there, but she told Jack he could invite Mike to stay at their house. Mike said he didn't have to check with his parents, but Mrs. Bauer insisted on speaking with Mike's father to make sure it was okay for Mike to stay. But since Mike didn't know where his parents had gone for dinner Mrs. Bauer relented, although she insisted that Mike leave a note for his parents telling them where he was.

Jack thought Mike's parents' attitude was strange. He could never stay out without his mom or dad's okay, and he began to feel sorry for Mike. It seemed like his parents didn't care what he did. Jack began to think that maybe the restrictions his parents put on him weren't so bad, although he drew the line at the babysitter. At least they were concerned about him. Jack didn't think Mike's parents were.

When Mike got to his house around six Jack's mom invited him to have dinner with them, and Mike happily agreed. He told Jack that all he'd have had for dinner at home was pizza, which his mom always kept in the freezer so Mike would have something to eat when she and his dad weren't home, which was most of the time. Sometimes Mike even had the stuff when his dad was there because his father didn't like to cook, and Mike was getting pretty tired of it. Mike hadn't thought it could ever happen but he was sick of pizza. He wished his mom was home more so she'd cook dinner at least some of the time, but she seemed more interested in her bridge games and golf and meeting her friends at the local watering hole. Half the time Mike didn't even know where she went, so he resented her absences even more. It wasn't like she was working. Besides, Mike's father was in Military Intelligence, and he too was frequently absent from home. He wanted to think that his folks trusted him, and that was why they left him on his own so much, but deep down he thought it was because they didn't even care. That hurt, all the more so when he saw how Jack's parents always seemed to be there for him. He saw the difference between his family and Jack's, and his was definitely wanting. He envied his friend, but there was nothing he could do about it but hope that Jack's parents would include him more.

They sat down to a dinner of salad, roast chicken and mashed potatoes, with broccoli that neither Mike nor Jack liked, but Jack knew that his parents were serious about vegetables, so he'd learned to eat them without complaining. Mike followed Jack's lead and finished everything on his plate. Jack's mom is a good cook, Mike thought. When he tasted the brownies she served for dessert Mike thought he'd fallen in love. She's really nice, Mike thought about Jack's mother. And she's a great cook. I wish my mom would do this. It'd be nice to be taken care of. Even if it was only once in a while.

The boys stayed up pretty late, laughing and joking about school, girls, other guys, everything. Mike was new to the neighborhood, new to the school, so he didn't yet know about Jack's increasing interest in girls. If he'd teased Jack about it Jack would've probably flattened him.

Chapter 2

The next morning Mike headed home while Jack got ready for church. That was another thing. Mike's parents never went to church; Mike never had to go to Sunday School, or have any religious instruction. Although Mike had always felt lucky to be spared that he felt a pang of envy when he saw that Jack accepted it as a matter of course. His parents expect things of him, Mike saw with wisdom greater than most nine-year-old's, and mine don't. They don't care what I do. The thought made him angry, and bitter. Why don't I have a family that cares about me?

Mike thought Jack didn't appreciate how lucky he was, but Mike was wrong. Jack saw how so many of his friends had families who didn't seem to care, or whose parents weren't together, and they over-indulged their kids in order to get them to love them. Jack was mature enough to perceive that these parents were trying to buy their kids' love, and he couldn't understand how they thought that would work. The more he learned of Mike's family life the more he began to appreciate the rules his parents had for him, and he realized that they weren't trying to baby him; they just wanted to protect him.

Mike asked Jack if he wanted to go swimming when he got home from church, but Janet was concerned about Mike, so she told Jack he couldn't go. She realized this was unfair to Jack, but she had to consider another child's safety, and she knew that Jack would agree. Besides, dinner after church was an inviolable rule. He didn't ask his mother first, but Jack invited Mike to join them for Sunday dinner. He knew his parents wouldn't mind. He realized that they, too, felt sorry for Mike. They'd seen how alone he was when he'd so eagerly had dinner with them the night before.

They were in the middle of summer vacation, and Jack was about to start baseball camp for a week. He'd gone to the same camp the year before, and he'd never stopped talking about it. He thought it was one of the best times he'd ever had, and he was looking forward to another experience just as great.

When Jack told Mike about the camp Mike was jealous. He never got to do anything like that. And it wasn't because his parents couldn't afford it. They just didn't think of things that he would like. On his birthday his parents got him a store-bought cake and gave him money so he could get himself a present at the PX. Christmas wasn't any better. They just gave him more money and he put his own presents under the tree. He always got them presents, though. He was glad to do it, but it made him feel sorry for himself.

When they managed to have a meal together Mike's parents talked to each other about their own interests. They usually managed a perfunctory "how's school," or "how was your day" or something like that, but it didn't seem to him that they even cared about his answers. At breakfast one morning he said that he'd been beaten up by a girl the day before, something that wasn't true, but he said it just because he wanted to see their reaction. There wasn't any.

Mike tried to tell his parents about the baseball camp Jack was going to, but he couldn't get them to listen. They were going to play golf and then they'd be off to some adults-only barbecue that their friends were having, and Mike was upset that they didn't seem to care that he was excluded. They told Mike they'd be home late, and that there was pizza in the freezer for his dinner. Mike groaned to himself and hoped that Jack could play with him. Otherwise it would just be another day in front of the TV, or maybe computer games. Even during the school year they never checked to see if he had done his homework. He always did it, though; he was a smart boy, and a good student. Even though he was only nine he couldn't wait to go away to college. He couldn't wait to leave home.

Mike made up his mind that he had to get away. He couldn't wait another nine years until he graduated from high school. After his parents left Mike got out a small suitcase and packed his clothes. He even remembered his toothbrush; he was really moving out. When he had finished putting his things together he sat on his bed. He didn't know where to go. He was nine years old, on a military base, in a foreign country, and he didn't speak the language. He couldn't just walk out of the gate.

It was a really hot day, and Mike decided to go swimming before he left. He pulled his bathing suit from the suitcase he'd already packed, and headed for the pool.

He was lonely even in the pool. Without someone to play tag with or to try to out-do with cannonballs he was bored very quickly. He went back to his house and dressed, still wondering where he could go. He hadn't spent the last 20 his parents had given him for his birthday, so he put it in his pocket, took his valise, and left the house.

He found himself heading down the street to Jack's. Although Janet wasn't teaching during the summer she volunteered to read to the patients at the base hospital, and Carol was in daycare. Mark had gone to work, so Jack's babysitter, Melissa, was there. As Mike got there he saw Jack and Melissa heading toward the school, carrying tennis racquets and a can of balls.

"Hey, Jack!" they heard. Mike was running to catch up to them. Jack saw his suitcase and called out, "Mike, are you going away? On vacation? Where're you going?"

Mike had forgotten he was carrying his bag. "Um, nowhere, Jack," he said, not wanting to tell his friend yet that he was running away. He had plenty of time. Maybe he could play first.

"You wanna go with us to the tennis court?" Jack asked. "Do you know how to play?"

"No," Mike replied. "Will you teach me?"

"Sure," Jack said, "but I'm not very good yet. Melissa can teach you. She's really good. She's on the high school team." He looked at Melissa, who nodded.

"I'll be glad to, Mike. Do you have a racquet?"

"No," he replied. "Can I use yours, Jack?"

"Sure," Jack said again, although he treasured his new racquet. "Here."

Mike and Melissa walked onto the court, where Melissa showed him how to hold the racquet. Then she showed him how to swing it, and where the ball should hit it.

"Jack, why don't we hit a few times, so Mike can see what I mean."

"Sure, Mel," Jack said, taking the racquet from Mike. Then he walked to the opposite side of the court.

Melissa hit a few soft shots to Jack, who hit them back easily. "See, Mike, don't try to kill it," she said. "Just swing through and let your racquet do the work. When you get the hang of it you can use power."

"Here, Mike," Jack said, handing Mike his racquet. Jack loved that racquet. His parents had gotten it for him for his ninth birthday. It was his first full-size racquet, no more kid stuff for him. He hoped Mike wouldn't scuff it up.

Mike missed the first few balls but then he connected, although what hit the ball was actually the frame. Still, he was encouraged that he'd actually made contact, and he slowly became more comfortable as his own natural athleticism came through. But Jack was getting restless, and although he'd never admit it, he was getting jealous of the attention Melissa was giving to Mike.

Melissa seemed to sense this. "Jack, why don't you take my racquet and hit with Mike?" she asked.

"Actually, Mel, I'd rather use my own. Can Mike use yours?"

"Sure, Jack. Here, Mike. Take my racquet."

Jack took Melissa's place on the base line and hit the ball as hard as he could. It sailed past Mike, who didn't even take a swing. He just looked at the ball that came zooming by him, and then looked at his friend.

"Sorry, Mike," Jack said, but he didn't really mean it. Mike might be as good as Jack at catch and swimming, but Jack was determined to show Mike that he wasn't as good as Jack at everything.

Jack hit the next ball just as hard. Mike swung at that one but didn't even come close. He looked at Jack, getting mad. He knew what his friend was doing.

"Jack, if you don't want to play with me, just say so." Mike put the racquet down on the court and started to walk away.

Jack immediately felt bad. "I'm sorry, Mike," he said. "I was just showing off. I won't do it again. Let's just hit."

After that Jack hit the ball more softly. Mike missed most of the time, but at least he didn't think his friend was trying to show him up. He began to enjoy himself.

Still, after a little while, even though he was hitting the ball a fair amount of the time Mike was getting frustrated, so Mike asked Jack if he wanted to play with Melissa. Jack, who was getting bored, said yes.

Melissa took her racquet back from Mike and started to serve a game. Mike saw that Jack was a pretty good player, but he took satisfaction in seeing that he was losing to Melissa. He was still mad from Jack's earlier attempt to embarrass him.

The heat of the day was setting in, so they started to go back to Jack's house. But Mike had a different idea.

"Why don't we go swimming?" he asked. "There should be plenty of kids there."

"Do you think that'll be all right with your parents, Mike?" Melissa asked. Although she was only Jack's babysitter she had a strong sense of responsibility, and that extended to other children. "Have they given you permission?"

"Yeah," Mike replied. "I went this morning." Jack didn't tell Melissa about Mike's lie the other day.

"Oh, okay," she responded. "But I have to go home for a suit."

"I'll change and meet you at Mike's," Jack said. "We'll see you in a few minutes."

"Uh-uh," she said. "We'll go to my house first, and then we'll go back to yours so you can change."

"Aw, Mel, you don't have to be with me every second. I'm not a baby, you know."

"I know you're not a baby, Jack, but your mom and dad expect me to stay with you. So you're coming with me. You, too, Mike."

Mike looked at them. For once he was glad about how his parents treated him. They knew he didn't need a babysitter.

"I'll meet you at my house," he said. "I don't need someone to watch me."

It was a sore point with Jack, who decided that he wasn't going to let Mike be more independent than he was. "I'll meet you at my house, Mel. It'll only be a few minutes. I can be alone for that long."

"No, Jack. That's not what your parents are paying me for. You come with me, or no pool. I mean it, Jack."

"Aw," Jack started to say, but he saw the way Melissa was looking at him and he realized that she meant it. If he didn't go with her she wouldn't let him go swimming.

"See you soon, Mike," Jack said with resignation. I'll just go with my babysitter, he thought resentfully. I wish they'd stop treating me like a baby!

Chapter 3

As Jack waited impatiently for Melissa to change her mother gave him a glass of lemonade. "Thanks, Mrs. Walker," he said. He was hot and thirsty from tennis and he couldn't wait to get into the pool, but at least the lemonade helped. He kept looking at the stairs, willing Melissa to come down so they could go to Mike's. Eventually she finished changing, and they walked to Jack's house.

"I'll just be a minute," he told her and raced into his room. As always it took him even less time than that to put on his suit. He grabbed a towel and slid down the bannister, something his mother forbad him to do. Sometimes he had to rebel, at least a little. And his mom wasn't home.

"Let's go," he said, and he was out the door. Melissa followed Jack to Mike's.

Mike wasn't there. He had raced to the pool and was already in the water. He had gone down the slide and was grabbing the water basketball as Jack jumped in.

Mike threw the ball to Jack, who aimed at the basket and missed. Mike grinned. At least he could make the shot. Mike was two inches taller than Jack, so he beat him at the game. Jack was miffed, but consoled himself with the thought that Mike couldn't touch him in tennis. He hated to lose at anything, even something as dumb as water basketball, but he wouldn't let Mike know that. Mike might lord it over him, and Jack couldn't take that.

They played in the water until they seemed waterlogged, the skin on their fingers shriveled into ridges. When Melissa told them that they should come out they grabbed their towels and went with her to the snack bar where they had ice cream and watched the other kids still in the pool. "Look at that spaz," Mike said, pointing to a kid who kept missing the basket. "He's a real spastic. He's pathetic."

Jack was taken aback by Mike's statement. One thing he never did was to make fun of other kids, and he was insulted by Mike's description of the other boy. "That's not fair," Jack told Mike. "He's trying as hard as he can. You shouldn't talk about him like that."

Mike got angry. Another kid couldn't criticize him, or worse, tell him what he should or shouldn't say. He felt that Jack wasn't really his friend, and his resolve to leave home returned. There's really nothing to keep me here, he thought. "I've gotta go home, Jack," Mike said, grabbing his suitcase.

Jack watched the new boy walk away, surprised at his reaction. He looked at Melissa, who said, "He's not very happy, is he, Jack? He seems kind of sad."

"I think he is, Mel. His mom and dad don't seem to care about him."

"That really is sad," Melissa replied, thinking not only of Jack's parents but her own. She, too, had a happy, loving home life.

Jack was tired from all of his activities, so he agreed when Melissa told him it was time to leave the pool. As they walked back to Jack's house she asked him what he wanted to do for the rest of the afternoon, and Jack said he wanted to use his Play Station. Melissa knew that Jack's parents let him use it after a busy day.

First they stopped at Melissa's house, where Jack sat with her mother while Melissa took a quick shower. Then they returned to Jack's where he too rinsed off, and then they ate the brownies Jack's mom had left for them for a snack.

Jack settled in front of the TV and Melissa took out a book. The rest of the afternoon passed quietly, and then Janet Bauer returned home.

"How was today, Jack?" she asked her son. "Did you have fun?"

"Yeah, Mom," Jack replied happily. "We played tennis and then went to the pool. It was great." He knew his mother cared about his answer, and really listened. Not like Mike's parents.

"Just you and Melissa?" Janet asked.

"No, Mike went with us. He had a good time, too," Jack replied.

"I'm surprised he isn't here with you," his mom said. "His parents aren't home, are they?" She, too, had learned of Mike's home life, and like her son felt sorry for him. She thought he was really a nice boy, and decided it was okay with her if he spent time at the Bauers' home.

"He acted really strange, Mom," Jack told her. "He just left the pool and didn't even say good-bye. And he had a suitcase this morning. He took it to the tennis court."

"'Strangely,' Jack, she corrected automatically. "Did he say where he was going?"

"No, Mrs. Bauer," Melanie said. "Jack's right. His behavior was really strange."

"'Strangely,' Mel," Jack said. "I don't know what he was going to do."

"Melissa used 'strange' correctly, Jack," Janet said with a smile. "Behavior is 'strange,' acting that way is 'strangely.'"

Jack didn't want a grammar lesson. "Okay, Mom," he said impatiently. "Not now, please?"

"Do you know where Mike's parents are?" Janet asked. "Is his father on the base?"

"I don't know," Jack and Melissa answered together. "I know his mom's here, but I don't know about his dad," Jack continued. "It's really sad, Mom. His parents don't seem to care about him."

"I know, Son. Your father and I think the same thing, but Dad can't say anything to his father. Even though he's his commanding officer that's not something he can control."

Janet Bauer wondered whether she had said too much to Jack. She didn't want to interfere in another family's business, but she, too, felt the same concern for Mike that Jack did. Jack was only nine, after all, and she didn't think he should be burdened with adult concerns. But she was proud of her son for caring about his friend, and pleased at his ability to perceive his friend's situation. Still, he was a child, and Mike's family relationship was something he shouldn't be involved in.

Chapter 4

When Mark Bauer returned home Jack told him about his day, several times mentioning Mike's strange behavior (he had understood his mom's grammar lesson) and the suitcase he had carried. Mark called Mike's house and was concerned when there was no answer. It was already dark, and from what Jack and Janet had told him Mike should have been home.

Mark called the guard station at the entrance to the base to ask whether a boy had gone through, and the soldier stationed there told him that there was no record of any child leaving the base alone.

Mark checked with the Officers' Club but Mike's parents weren't there. The women's bridge game had ended hours earlier, and they weren't in the dining room. Mark became more worried.

Mark went over to Mike's house but no one answered the bell. There were no lights on, and Mark was even more concerned. A military base was no place for a child to be wandering alone, and Mark understood from Jack just how unhappy Mike was.

When he returned home Mark called the Military Police and told them to look for Mike. He was tempted to tell them to look for Mike's parents as well, but he couldn't properly have them search for adults, even ones as apparently irresponsible as these were.

"Jack," his dad asked, "did Mike tell you why he had a suitcase?"

"No, Dad. He seemed uncomfortable when Mel and I saw it, and he didn't answer me when I asked him if he was going away on vacation. I'm worried about him, Dad. He was acting really strangely."

"I've asked the M.P.'s to look for him, Jack. They'll find him soon. They don't let kidsw wander around the base," Mark tried to reassure his son.

"Why don't you watch some TV?" Janet asked Jack. She wanted to get his mind off his missing friend. There was nothing the boy could do, and she thought it was an adult matter. Again she was proud of Jack's concern for another, but she didn't want him to continue to worry. She hoped her husband was right, that the M.P.'s would soon find Mike, but she realized just how big the base was, and that a small boy might not be very easy to find, Mark's confident words to Jack notwithstanding.

"I don't think I can concentrate, Mom. I'm really worried about Mike."

"Let's watch something together," Janet suggested. "Isn't 'Friends' on? I know how much you love that show."

Despite the sexual innuendo in the show Jack's parents still let him watch it. He didn't seem to pick up on the undertones in the plot, but he appreciated the humor. He usually looked forward to it.

"No, Mom," Jack said. "I don't really want to."

"Well, I'm going to turn it on," Janet said, hoping that Jack would begin to watch and be distracted.

The phone rang. It was the head of the military police, telling Mark that a sweep of the base hadn't turned up any sign of Mike. Mark told them to keep looking, the concern in his voice evident.

Jack had heard his dad's tone and his attention was diverted from the TV. He had begun to watch 'Friends' but had not been fully distracted. His worry for his friend was too strong.

"What did they say, Dad? Did they find Mike?"

"No, Son. They're still looking, and they won't stop 'til they find him. I'm sure it'll be soon," his dad said with a certainty he didn't feel.

His parents realized that Jack was too concerned to go to sleep, so they let him stay up past his vacation bedtime of ten o'clock. So he was with his parents when the phone again rang.

"We found him, Sir," the head M.P. said. "It isn't good."

"What do you mean, Captain?"

"He's dead, Sir. He apparently drowned in the pool."

"My God," Mark said, closing his eyes. "I'll be right there."

"What is it, Dad? Did they find Mike?" Jack anxiously asked.

Mark looked at his son, hating what he was about to do. He knew it would mark the end of his childhood, his innocence. "I hate to tell you this, Son, but Mike died. He drowned in the pool."

Jack's eyes filled with tears. He'd been afraid that something bad had happened to his friend, but he hadn't thought that Mike might die. He was in shock. Terrible things like this didn't happen to kids. Kids didn't die. Jack suddenly felt very old.

"I'm going over there," Mark told Janet, who was also distraught. "I'll call you."

When Mark got to the pool it was surrounded by M.P.'s, and the base chaplain was there as well. The sight of the man, more than anything, made the news believable to the commanding officer.

"It wasn't accidental, Sir," the M.P. chief told him. "He committed suicide."

Mark wasn't prepared for this. "What? How do you know that, Captain? How do you know that the boy killed himself?"

"He left a note, Sir. It was with a suitcase at the edge of the deep end of the pool."

"Let me see it," Mark commanded, and was handed a note which the M.P.s had placed in a plastic bag. What he read sickened him.

The note was short. "I'm sorry," it said, "but no one cares whether I live or die."

Mark felt as upset as he ever had. He had seen death before, soldiers, good men all, but he'd never seen a child who didn't cling to life. He felt his anger at Mike's parents consume him.

"I want you to find the boy's parents. Now, Captain. They're on the base, somewhere. I want them brought here immediately."

"We'll find them, Sir. If I may ask, Sir, can I assume from your order that they're not at home?"

"They weren't a half hour ago, Captain, but they may have gotten home since then. Start there, but if they aren't there look everywhere on this base. I want them found."

Mark watched the base doctors gently place Mike's lifeless body on a gurney and guide it into the waiting ambulance. The M.P.s had finished taking pictures of the area, but they waited around to see if their C.O. had orders for them.

Mark sank into a poolside chair, oblivious to the soldiers standing there. He just stared at the note in his hand, wondering if there wasn't something he could have done to help the boy. Mark and Janet had seen how unhappy the child was, but they hadn't realized the depths of his despair. How could they? Mark thought about Mike's parents. How could they not care about their son?

There was activity at the gate of the fence that surrounded the pool, and Mark looked up to see Mike's mother entering the area with two MP's. She looked very upset, but Mark was still angry with her. She had virtually abandoned her son, and that to Mark was absolutely unforgivable.

"Oh, my God!" she cried. "My Mikey! Where's my Mikey?"

Mark felt himself get even angrier. Why hadn't she shown such concern for her son when it would have made a difference? When it would have made death unthinkable to that lonely, lonely child?

Mark rose from the chair and walked towards the woman. "He killed himself," Mark told her bluntly. He didn't think she deserved candy-coating. She, and her husband, were responsible for the boy's death.

An M.P. Jeep pulled up and Mike's dad ran to the pool. "What happened? What happened to Mike?"

He was oblivious to his commanding officer standing there. He walked over to his wife. "What happened, Beverly? What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything, Carl. How could you ask that? He was my son, too. I loved him just as much as you did. How dare you talk to me like that!"

Her indignation put Mark on the verge of yelling at them. He was barely in control when he said, "Your son killed himself, Major. He said he had no reason to live."

Carl looked at him. "How could he think that? We gave him everything. That kid had everything."

"Everything but love and attention," Mark told them bluntly. "He felt that you didn't give a damn about him." He couldn't stop himself from telling them off. As always, they only seemed concerned about themselves. He handed Carl the note.

Mike's father showed no emotion as he read his son's final words. He silently handed it to Beverly, who also showed no emotion. "How could he?" she asked. "How could he do this to us?"

Mark walked away in disgust. They didn't give a damn about their son. He couldn't believe it. His children meant everything to him. How could people not feel that way about their own child?

Chapter 5

Mark was only too happy to grant Mike's father's request for a transfer. He and his wife didn't want a constant reminder of their son's death, he said, but Mark suspected that the real reason was the looks that other people gave them. The whole base knew that Mike had committed suicide, and word had quickly spread of the contents of the note.

Jack grieved for his friend. He lost his appetite and didn't want to play. Even Little League didn't interest him, and he told his parents he didn't want to go to baseball camp. They insisted, however, hoping that playing ball and the other kids would distract him from his sorrow.

They didn't know that Jack blamed himself for his friend's death. If only I didn't embarrass him at tennis, he thought. If only I didn't criticize him about what he said. I should have been a better friend. He berated himself over and over. He believed that Mike had killed himself because he felt that his only friend had abandoned him, just as his parents had.

It was a while before Jack's natural resilience returned, but at the baseball camp he began to have fun as he started to come to grips with the tragedy of Mike's death. He appreciated even more his parents' love for him, and he no longer chafed at their insistence upon a babysitter.

Death had made its first impression upon Jack, and as his father had known, it had changed him. He knew it was something he would always fight, would never accept. He would never understand how Mike had given up to it, had actually wanted it, welcomed it. As he returned to the present his consciousness started to assert itself. He knew that he would never give up, as Mike had. He would always fight to live.


	4. Part IV

Part IV

Chapter 1

Jack lay still on the hospital bed Kim had had delivered to Melanie's old room. He had been discharged from the hospital only two days before, and he was still way too weak to care for himself. The doctors had said that a hospital bed would ease the constant pain Jack felt, by enabling him to change his position more easily and frequently.

After the first few days of consciousness Jack had tried to refuse narcotics for the pain. Although his addiction was long in the past and he had had painkillers many times in the intervening years of injuries without a relapse, he still preferred not to have drugs in his body. He was adamant, despite doctors' protests that pain would just slow his recovery. And no one, no one, could budge Jack Bauer when he dug in his heels. But even he was sometimes overwhelmed with the pain, and morphine was added to his I.V.

Jack used the electric control to raise the head of the bed and slowly swung his legs over the side. He tried to put on his robe, but the sheer act of bending his arm to fit into the sleeve was too much for him. The broken ribs still hurt like hell, and the doctors were right. The pain just made it harder to breathe, and he knew that was bad for his heart. He sank back against the pillows with a moan, sweating both from the exertion and the agony. Dammit, he thought. I can't even put on my damn robe!

He tried to ease himself into a more comfortable position but he was too weak to even move his legs all the way back onto the bed. As he lay there, his back on the bed and his legs dangling off, he was overcome with a feeling of despair like he'd never felt. His body was failing him, except this time it wasn't just from injuries. Those he could overcome. No, it was from age, and that wasn't something he could recuperate from. He realized that he'd never regain his old strength. His body wouldn't let him.

Kim knocked softly and entered with a tray. She saw Jack splayed on the bed and knew that something had happened. "Dad, Dad, what's wrong?" she asked. "Are you in pain?"

He didn't answer her, other than to moan. Kim became frightened. Jack never complained. "Here, let me help you," she said, putting down the tray. She put her hand under Jack's knees and swung his legs back onto the bed before she lowered the head and helped Jack straighten his body.

"I'm calling the doctor," Kim said. When Jack didn't protest she became even more scared. This wasn't her father. He'd never acted like this. Jack Bauer had never willingly seen a doctor in his life.

Jack just lay on the bed while Kim dialed the hospital. "Doctor, something's wrong," she said. "Dad's in tremendous pain, he's too weak to sit up, he seems too weak to move. I don't know what's wrong."

As she said the last part she looked at Jack, whose pajamas were soaked. He's sweating too, Doctor," she said. "And his breathing isn't right."

Jack saw her looking at him as she listened at the phone. "Yes, Doctor, I'll call the ambulance right now." He didn't protest when she hung up and called 911. "Yes, I need an ambulance. It's an emergency. My father just got out of the hospital and his doctor said he has to go back in. He's having trouble breathing and he's very weak." She listened again. "Yes, I'm with him now." She gave the operator the address and turned back to Jack.

"Dad, Dr. Garfein says you have to be re-admitted to the hospital. He says you shouldn't be this weak or in so much pain." Jack didn't say anything. He just looked at Kim, who began to wonder if Jack could even speak.

"Dad, say something! Please, say something!" she cried. "Dad, please!"

"I'm okay, Kitten," he said, reverting to his baby name for her. But his voice was just a whisper. Kim was barely sure he'd spoken.

Kim hurriedly called Chase, who said he'd meet them at the hospital. When the ambulance came the attendants quickly put Jack on the gurney and took him to the emergency room where the doctor was waiting. X-rays showed that Jack had pneumonia caused by the broken ribs, which had kept him from taking deep breaths. Because of this there was even more strain on his heart. The doctor's face was grave when he gave Kim and Chase the news.

"I'm afraid he's in trouble again," he said. "It's as bad as before. I don't know how much more of this his heart can take."

Kim grabbed for Chase's hand. She didn't know what to say. "Do everything you can, Doctor," Chase said. "Everything."

"I understand," said the doctor. "We're going to put him in the ICU. He'll get the best care in the hospital there, and we'll treat the pneumonia with everything we've got. I'm considering putting him on a respirator to ease his breathing. The trouble with that is, once he's on it it'll be difficult to get him off. But we may have no choice."

The doctor's tone scared Kim and Chase more than anything. He seemed to be warning them without words that Jack was losing this, what seemed to be his final battle.

Chapter 2

Through the haze Jack felt as though he was back at the base hospital, waiting for news of Carol. His little sister kept getting colds and earaches, but she always got over them after a couple of days. The pediatrician had told her parents that she might have to have her tonsils out, but that there was nothing to worry about. Carol was growing normally, and had become the nuisance to Jack that little sisters usually are.

But her fever returned dramatically one night, to 105. Despite a cool bath and medicine it hadn't come down, so they had all gone to the emergency room. Jack's parents were with Carol so he waited alone, scared for his baby sister. He could hear her crying, but it wasn't her usual cry. It sounded weak, listless.

Jack knew that both he and Carol had had fevers many times, but he knew that this was different. Neither of them had ever been brought to the hospital before. He wanted to know what was happening, but no one told him anything. Although Jack sometimes thought Carol was a pest, and he still got angry when she got into his things, he loved her very much, and now he was very afraid. Not knowing sucks, he thought. I wish they'd tell me what's going on.

After awhile his father came out, looking grim. "Carol has meningitis, Jack. It's very serious."

"What is it, Dad? What's mena...menagitis?"

"It's an infection of the outside of the brain, Son."

Jack realized how bad this sounded. "Will she be all right, Dad?"

His father looked at him. "I don't know, Jack. The doctors don't know yet. She's very sick. We just have to wait."

Jack was very frightened. He'd never seen his father look like this.

"Can I see her, Dad?" Jack asked.

"No, Son. They'll only let Mom and me in. And she's sleeping anyway."

"Oh," Jack replied. He didn't know what else to say.

"Melissa's mother is coming to take you home, Jack. She'll stay with you until you go off to school. Melissa will pick you up afterward." Melissa was Jack and Carol's babysitter.

"I want to stay, Dad. Can't I skip school today?"

"No, Jack. This is going to take a while. Carol's going to be in the hospital for a long time. There's nothing you can do for her. You belong in school."

Melissa's mother, Ellen Walker, entered the waiting area. "Hello, Mark," she said to Jack's dad. "How's Carol?"

"No change, Ellen. Thanks for coming."

"Of course, Mark. I only wish we could do more," Ellen said. "If there is anything, promise you'll let me know. And don't worry about Jack. He'll be fine with us until Carol comes home. I'll stay with him tonight, and take him to school. Melissa can bring him here after school, and then back to our place."

"Thanks, Ellen. That's a big help."

Jack started to feel annoyed that they were arranging his life without asking him, but he realized that what they were planning made sense. They'd never have let him stay home alone, and truthfully he didn't want to. He was only nine, and the thought of sleeping in the big house by himself scared him. It would be good to be with other people. And he was glad he could come to the hospital after school. He hoped they'd let him see Carol.

"Come on, Jack. It's time you got some sleep," Mrs. Walker said.

"G'night, Dad," Jack said. "Say good night to Mom. And to Carol. Tell her I hope she gets better real fast."

"I will, Son. Have a good sleep."

As they left the hospital Mrs. Walker told Jack that she'd help him get ready for school in the morning, and the next day Melissa would help him get his things together so he could stay with the Walkers after that. Jack thought he wouldn't be able to sleep because of his worry about Carol, but he was out as soon as he got into bed.

He was tired when his alarm went off at seven, and Mrs. Walker told him to sleep later. She woke him at nine, and while he dressed she fixed breakfast for him. Jack was in class by 9:45, armed with a note to his teacher explaining his lateness. His teacher expressed her concern and good wishes to Jack, and class resumed.

Janet Bauer taught at the base school, and word soon spread among the teachers that her daughter was seriously ill. Although the base was very large the school was not, and the teachers knew all of their colleagues' children. They all hoped for Carol's swift recovery.

Jack had trouble concentrating, but his teacher understood. He couldn't wait for school to end so Melissa could take him to the hospital. He hoped they'd let him see Carol. Since his friend Mike's death months before he understood that Carol's life was in danger. And Mike had only been a friend. Carol was his sister.

When he got to the hospital his Mom came out to the waiting room. She looked exhausted. "Carol's the same, Jack. She's in a very deep sleep. She still has a very high fever. The doctors are doing everything they can, but we don't know what's going to happen." Janet Bauer was determined not to cry in front of her son; she didn't want to scare him. But despite herself tears ran down her cheeks.

"Oh, Mom," Jack said, his own eyes filling. "Can I see her? Please? I won't get in the way. I promise."

"No, Sweetheart," she said, hugging him. "Just Dad and me. They won't let anyone else in."

"That's not fair, Mom," he protested. "She's my sister. I just want to say hello."

"I can't help it, Jack. Those are the rules. Now please don't give me any trouble. I can't take any more."

Jack was instantly sorry. He knew what his Mom, what both his parents were going through. He didn't mean to give them a hard time.

"I'm sorry, Mom. It's just that I'm so worried about her."

"I know, Jack," Janet said, hugging him. "You're a good boy. I know you love her. But they have rules, and we have to obey them. They don't even want Dad and me to stay with her all the time, but they're breaking that rule for us. We're talking to her, hoping she can hear us. She's in a coma, Jack. That's a very deep sleep. We can't wake her up. The doctors don't know if she'll ever wake up." Janet started to cry again.

Jack didn't know what to say. He hugged his mother tightly, wanting to comfort her, needing to be comforted by her. Her words had scared him terribly.

Janet gently pulled away from her son and wiped the tears from his cheeks. "Why don't you go home with Melissa now? Start your homework. If there's any change, we'll call you. I promise."

Jack wanted to stay but he didn't want to cause his mother any more trouble. "Okay, Mom. But will you tell Carol I love her? You said you're talking to her. Tell her that, will you, Mom?"

"Of course, Jack. You're such a good boy. I'll tell her as soon as I go back inside."

To Melissa she said, "Thank you, dear. And thank your parents for us. I don't know what we'd do without you."

"Oh, you're welcome, Mrs. Bauer, I just wish there was more we could do," she echoed her mother. "And don't worry about Jack. He'll be fine with us."

"I know. And thank you again."

"'Bye, Mom. I'll see you tomorrow," Jack said, giving her another hug.

"Good-bye, Son. I'll tell Carol what you said."

Jack watched his mother walked out of the waiting room and down the hospital corridor. He could hear her cry, above his own sobs.

Chapter 3

Jack thought he'd have trouble concentrating on his homework, but he found that it was actually good for him. It took his mind off Carol, at least for awhile. When Mrs. Walker called him for dinner he found that he had finished almost all of his assignments, and could easily be done with just another twenty minutes of studying. Maybe I can watch some TV, he thought.

Dinner with the Walkers was good. Mrs. Walker prepared meals like Jack's mother's, simple, healthy food, the kind Jack liked. Mrs. Walker was surprised to see Jack eat his vegetables without complaint; she didn't know that he had been trained by his parents to do so. Had she known Jack better she would have known that he had his father's orderly, military mind, knowing how to pick and choose his battles, which orders he had to obey, and which he might safely ignore. So when Jack cleaned his plate she was more than happy to serve him dessert, chocolate brownies, Jack's favorite, but not as good as his mother's, of course. He washed it down with a glass of milk, and was excused from the table.

Melissa quizzed Jack for his spelling bee scheduled for the next day, and pronounced him ready. Mrs. Walker asked Jack if his parents let him watch TV when his homework was done, and when he said yes she asked if he wanted to watch 'Friends.' Jack was taken aback; he hadn't watched it since the night Mike had died, and although he didn't yet know the world 'superstitious' he couldn't help but think that with Carol so ill that maybe watching the show might somehow hurt her.

Nevertheless Jack sat down in front of the set and soon found himself absorbed in the comedy. After that it was time for bed so Jack went to the guest room, still tired from the night before, and his worry about Carol.

He lay in bed, but sleep did not come. Instead thoughts of Mike ran through his head. Jack knew that Mike had killed himself. He understood that Mike's parents had abandoned him, had treated him as though they didn't love him, but he couldn't understand someone giving up on life. He couldn't put it into words, but he was mad at Mike. He had ended his life, and Carol was fighting so hard for hers. It wasn't fair. How could Mike have wanted to die? How could anybody want to die?

Chapter 4

The next days fell into a pattern for Jack. Staying at the Walkers', going to the hospital, going to school, the days were the same, except for the weekend, when he wanted to spend more time at the hospital but his parents said no. They didn't want him to just sit in the waiting room. They insisted that he be with his friends, whose parents were more than willing to look after him. So he stayed over at friends' houses on Friday and Saturday night, just going to the hospital for a little while each day.

Jack's parents stayed with Carol every minute, going home only to shower and change. They took turns sleeping in a chair in her room, one of them talking to her all the time while the other napped. Still, she stayed in the coma, showing no signs of awakening.

They couldn't hide the truth from Jack, and in fact they didn't want to. They knew he'd grown up a lot with Mike's death. And although they couldn't have said it aloud, they felt that he had to be prepared for the worst with Carol.

After his teacher told him how to spell it Jack looked up 'meningitis' in the school encyclopedia and was horrified by what he read. Not only could the disease be fatal, but it could cause brain damage and other terrible complications. The description of 'coma' was just as scary. He understood that his little sister really could die.

Jack couldn't talk about his fears with anyone. That just wasn't the way he was made. He kept things to himself, no matter how awful. His parents had found this out when they'd tried to get him to talk about Mike's death. Jack had seemed to withdraw from them after his friend died. He kept his emotions bottled up. When they couldn't get him to speak with them the Bauers had enlisted the help of the school psychologist, but he had no better luck. Jack was the type of boy who'd have to work through things himself, the man had told them, even at his young age. Some people are like that, he said, they can't be open about their feelings. They have it much harder. They're much more alone. Lonely.

The Bauers were understandably upset to hear this. They couldn't fathom how their easygoing, chatty, friendly child could possibly be isolated from them by his feelings, which he'd always before so easily shared with them. That Mike's death had affected him so profoundly wasn't something they'd expected of so young a boy, and they instinctively knew that his reticence wasn't something they could change. They felt frustrated and powerless. They knew that a boy who kept his feelings bottled up was destined for unhappiness. Learning this from a professional made them afraid for his future.

The next time Jack went to the hospital his father came out to the waiting room. Jack had never seen him look so tired. "How's Carol, Dad?" Jack asked. "Is she any better?"

"I'm afraid there's no change, Jack," he said. It was ten days since she'd gotten sick.

"What do the doctors say, Dad?"

"They don't know what to say, Son. She's getting weaker every day. Her fever hasn't come down, and they're feeding her through tubes."

The thought of this scared Jack. He'd never heard of this before, and it sounded terrifying. He wanted to know more about it, but he wasn't about to ask his father. He looked like he'd collapse.

"How's Mom, Dad? Is she as tired as you are? You really need some sleep."

"Yeah, Son, I know. And yes, Mom's tired. But we're not going to leave Carol. We're going to stay with her."

"I understand, Dad," Jack said.

"Are you okay at the Walkers', Son? We know you're scared, and we hate to leave you all alone like this. Is everything all right there?"

"Yeah, Dad, they're really nice," he answered. "I'm fine. Don't worry about me."

"I'm going back in, Jack. You go with Melissa now. We'll see you tomorrow."

"Okay, Dad. Kiss Mom for me. And tell Carol I love her, okay?"

"Of course, Son," Mark Bauer replied. "We love you, too."

Jack watched the exhausted figure of his father walk through the double doors of the waiting room. Mark knew that Jack was frightened; he'd learned too much about death already. Mark wasn't aware of the tears coursing down his own face as he slowly walked back to Carol's room.

Chapter 5

The alarms on the heart monitors were going off. The lines had gone from steady waves to sharp peaks and valleys with no discernible pattern. Jack was crashing.

The doctors and nurses did what they were so well-trained to do. With teamwork gained of long experience they performed their jobs, using all they knew to try to save this patient who they knew had lived through so much, so many other times when he had not been expected to survive. But this time the odds against him were even longer.

Chase supported Kim as they stood in the doorway, knowing that this could very well be the end. Jack's condition had been deteriorating; it was evident not only from the doctors' words but from his very appearance. He was gaunt and pale, not moving, his skin almost transparent on his face. He looks like death, Chase thought to himself. He can't make it this time.

Kim felt the same, but she wouldn't allow herself to put it into words. He's got to live, she thought. Daddy! she screamed in her mind. Don't you leave me! Don't you dare leave me!

One of the nurses turned to them and said, "You'll have to go to the waiting room. One of the doctors will be out to speak to you soon."

"Please, let us stay," Kim pleaded. "We won't be in the way."

"No, I'm sorry. Please wait outside." She closed the door, forcing them to back out.

Kim turned to Chase, terror on her face. "Oh, Chase, I can't lose him," she wailed. "He can't die! He can't die!"

"I know, Baby," Chase murmured. "But Jack's a fighter. You know that." Chase realized how trite that sounded, but there really was nothing else to say.

When they got to the waiting room Chase told Kim, "I'll go call the kids."

As he left to use his cellphone outside Kim sat on the couch and squeezed her eyes shut. Images of Jack, of pictures taken with him when she was a little girl, with her mother, of her wedding, with her kids, all of those images, of the happy times, came to her. No pictures of the bad times, of the heartaches, of the worries, of the day she'd lost her mother, of the other times when she'd almost lost him. Just of the good times. The times she had to hang on to. He has to live, she thought. He's so young! She smiled to herself. She'd grown up. When had sixty-seven become young to her? When she'd turned forty herself? Forty-five?

She remembered her dad at her forty-fifth birthday party. She and Chase had actually been able to pull it off as a surprise sixty-fifth for Jack. Chase had told him that he was making a surprise party for Kim, and to be sure that she didn't find out. Jack was enlisted to pick his grandkids up at the airport, where they were flying in from college, and to take them to the restaurant where he thought they were all going to surprise Kim. When they walked in and everyone yelled 'surprise' Jack was confused to see that Kim was one of the ones yelling. It took him a minute to realize that the party was for him. It had been one of the finest nights of his life.

Any time he had his family together was a great time for Jack. All of the moments were bittersweet, of course, because Teri wasn't there, but he knew, he knew, that she really was there, with him, as surely as if he could've reached out and touched her.

He was sure that Teri had been there to see Kim mature, to marry and become a mother. He knew how proud she would be of their daughter.

Kim thought back to that last day with her mother, of the anger she had still felt towards her, of how she had blamed Teri for making Jack leave. She understood now, had for many years, why her parents had separated; she had even made peace with herself for the way she had hated her mother. When her own children were born Kim understood that her mother had never stopped loving her, no matter what Kim had said, no matter what she had done. She knew that Teri had forgiven her for everything she had ever done to hurt her. It gave Kim a kind of peace she'd never known. She felt a bond with Teri that she wished she could tell her mother about, but she knew that somehow Teri already knew.

As much as she loved her father Kim realized that her love for her mother was very different. Not greater, but different.

Chapter 6

Jack went to church with Melissa and her parents on Sunday. He had always dutifully gone with his parents and attended Sunday School, but he'd had his doubts about God since Mike's death. Now, with his little sister so sick, he was mad.

"What kind of god are you?" he thought as he sat in the pew. "How can you hurt Carol like this? She's a good girl. Why are you making her suffer? And why are you doing this to Mom and Dad?"

As the service continued Jack refused to participate. He sat silently during the hymns, arms folded, a pout on his lips. The Walkers noticed but they decided not to say anything, at least not until the time seemed right. They were sure they knew what Jack was thinking.

As they filed out the pastor took Jack's hand and told him he was praying for Carol and their whole family. Jack thanked him, but there was no enthusiasm in his voice. He felt worse than he had before the service. He felt that God was letting him down.

As he sat down to dinner Major Walker spoke to him. It was as though he'd read Jack's mind. "Don't be mad at God, Jack," he said gently. "I know it seems like God isn't there for you or your family, but He really is. It's just that we don't always know what He has in mind."

"I don't understand, Sir," Jack said. "Isn't God supposed to be good? If we're good, why does bad stuff happen?"

"That's a question for the ages, Jack," came the reply. "People have been asking that since the beginning of time. All we know is that God has a plan that we don't know. That's why we have to have faith, Jack. We have to believe that everything that happens is because God wants it to. That it's part of God's plan."

Jack wanted no part of it. He thought that God should take care of good people. What good was He otherwise? Who needed Him?

"I don't care," Jack said, standing up abruptly. "There's no God. I don't believe it." He ran from the table, up the stairs to the guestroom.

Major Walker started to follow, but Mrs. Walker put a hand on her husband's arm. "Let him go, Len," she said. "This is something he has to work out for himself. He's young, and he's scared. It's no wonder he's angry. He just lost his friend, and now Carol's so sick. Maybe it would be better if Janet or Mark was with him, but we can't put this on them. Let's give him some time, and then we'll talk to him."

Jack threw himself on the bed. He didn't think he'd ever felt more angry or more confused. All his life his parents had told him to put his faith in God, but Jack felt that He'd let him down. He couldn't, didn't want to believe in Something that he couldn't count on. What was the point?

After a while Jack dried his tears and walked down the stairs to where the Walkers were having their coffee. "Are you all right, Jack?" Major Walker asked.

"Yes, sir. I'm sorry about that. I didn't mean to be rude," Jack answered. "But I'd like to go to the hospital now, if that's all right."

"Don't you want to finish your dinner, Jack? At least have a brownie."

"No, thanks, ma'am. I'd just like to go now."

"Sure, Son," the Major said. "I'll take you."

They were silent during the walk. When they entered the waiting room the nurse went to tell Jack's parents that he was there.

"Oh, Jack," Janet said as she entered. There were tears on her face. Jack's stomach turned over.

"Oh, Mom," he wailed. "No! No! Not Carol!"

"No, Jack! She's fine. Carol's going to be fine!"

"But you're crying, Mom!"

"I know, Jack," she laughed, "I know. I'm crying because I'm so happy."

Jack was confused, but he, too, started to cry. Then he found he was laughing at the same time. It was a new sensation for him, and it made him laugh and cry even harder. "Is she okay, Mom? Is her brain okay?"

"Yes, Son. She just woke up. We were about to call you. Carol's going to be fine. No permanent damage. She can come home in a few days."

"Can I see her, Mom? Just for a minute?"

"I think that'll be okay with the doctors, Jack. Just wait a minute."

She turned to Leonard Walker. "Len, I can't thank you and Ellen enough. If you hadn't been there to take care of Jack for us..."

Major Walker cut her off. "Janet, we're just glad we were able to help. We're thrilled for you. And Jack can stay with us until you bring Carol home."

"That's not necessary, Len, but thank you. Mark's going to go home tonight, so he'll be with Jack. It'll be good for them both to be together. But please thank Ellen for us. And Melissa, too. We're so grateful."

"Anything we can do to help. And don't be afraid to call us if you need anything."

He turned to Jack. "Good-bye, Jack. You're a fine young man. I can see now why your parents are so proud of you."

"Um, good-bye, Sir," Jack said, taken aback. "Thank you."

Jack didn't know what to expect as he walked down the corridor with his mother to Carol's room. As his mom opened the door he hung back, afraid to enter. Carol had been so sick. And they were feeding her with tubes. What would she look like? He'd heard adults when they hadn't thought Jack could hear them, talking about how Mike had looked when they'd brought him out of the pool, and he hadn't been dead very long. Carol had been close to death for days. Jack was afraid of what he'd see.

When he followed his mother into the room Jack burst into tears. Carol was sitting up, smiling, clutching her teddy bear and her daddy's hand.

Jack felt immeasurable relief and joy. He wondered if his talk with God had had anything to do with it. He didn't think so. But maybe it was something to remember.


	5. Part V

Part V

Chapter 1

Jack stopped breathing as his heart gave out. The doctors started CPR while they gave him IVs of the medicines that sometimes could start the beating again. There was no response.

As more time passed the team was increasingly cognizant that brain damage, irreparable damage, would happen if oxygen was cut off for more than three minutes. They rushed to do everything possible to save their patient, but nothing was working. They shocked him with the machine, once, twice, three times, but there was no effect. On the fourth try the monitors showed the heart twitch. There was an electrical impulse. There was a spark of life.

They continued their efforts. More medicine was administered along with more electric shocks. They watched as the heart monitor again showed the organ beating, erratic at first, then a rhythm, far from normal, but at least something. Maybe they could bring him back.

The respirator continued to breathe for him, forcing air in and out of Jack's lungs, relieving some of the strain on his heart. Oxygen was again flowing through his brain. Fewer than three minutes had passed. Jack Bauer had once again dodged the ultimate bullet.

Chapter 2

Again through the medicine-induced fog his mind went to reaches beyond his control. He was almost four again, and his parents were waiting for his baby brother or sister to be born.

Jack had wanted to know why his mother was getting fat. With the total lack of guile and tact of a child he posed this question to her, and had been rewarded by a laugh from both of his parents. "Mommy's not getting fat, Jack," his dad replied, chuckling. "You're going to be a big brother!"

Jack knew that somehow this was supposed to make him happy, but he still didn't understand why that should be making his mother get fat. He told his parents this and they smiled again, but realized that Jack had to be taken seriously.

"There's a baby growing in here, Jack," his mother told him. "Do you want to feel it?"

Jack was frightened at the thought. A baby? Growing inside? He didn't want a baby to grow inside him.

He didn't answer, and his parents watched the emotions play on his face. "Don't you want to feel the baby, Son?" his dad asked. "It's nothing to be afraid of."

Jack didn't answer. He walked over to where his mother was sitting, and let her guide his hand to her expanding belly. He felt something move, and it only increased his fear.

His parents were puzzled by his silence. "What's wrong, Jack?" his father asked. "Don't you want to be a big brother?"

Jack still didn't talk, and his parents saw the terror on his face. "Jack, what is it?" his mother asked. "What's wrong?"

"I don't want a baby inside me, Mommy!" he cried.

"Oh, Jack," his mom said, smiling but managing not to laugh. "That won't happen. Only women can have babies grow. It can't happen to men. And it's something wonderful, Jack. You grew inside me, you know. And it was an unbelievable feeling."

Jack was stunned. He hadn't known that. He hadn't known where babies came from, hadn't thought to ask. It hadn't mattered to him before. And he didn't see why his parents wanted to have another baby. What was wrong with him? Wasn't he enough?

Jack burst into tears, and his mother wrapped him in her arms. "Oh, Sweetheart, we love you more than anything in the world. As much as anyone can be loved," she said, guessing at the cause. "And nothing will ever change that. We'll always love you just as much. The baby won't change that."

He didn't understand. If they loved him so much they wouldn't have any love left for the new baby. And why would they want another baby if they wouldn't have love left for it? Unless they didn't love him as much as they said.

The tears wouldn't stop. Jack's father scooped him onto his lap and kissed his blonde head. "Son, I know you don't understand. There's no limit to love. We can love you as much as anything, and we'll love the baby just as much. I know this is hard to understand. But we'll never love you any less."

Jack's crying stopped, but not his confusion. He was still very hurt, both by the feeling that he had disappointed his parents somehow so that they wanted someone besides him, and because they would love that baby, too, and that meant they wouldn't love him as much. When his mother said it was bedtime Jack went without protest, which caused his parents to look at each other with concern. Jack always asked to stay up later; this was the first night he had wordlessly gone to bed.

As his mother followed Jack to his room she thought of what else she could say to reassure her son. He was clearly troubled and she was upset by it. She loved Jack more than anything, as she had told him, and she didn't know how to convince him. He'd always been secure in his parents' love, and his reaction to the coming of a sibling seemed to be far more upsetting to him than his parents had anticipated. They knew that it was normal for older children to resent the arrival of younger ones, especially for an only child to do so, but Jack seemed to be taking it harder than they had thought he would. They didn't know that he felt that he wasn't enough for them.

As she helped Jack get into his dinosaur pajamas and brush his teeth his mother saw the look of abject misery on his face, and her heart broke. Her baby, her little boy, was in pain, and not the type she could kiss and make 'all better.' She was at a loss to understand the depth of his feelings, so she couldn't assuage his fears.

After his mother kissed him good night his father came in and sat next to him. His son looked so small in the bed surrounded by toy trucks. "Jack," he said, "don't forget what I said. Nothing will ever make us love you any less. Nothing. Not this baby, not anything. Don't forget that, Son."

"G'night, Dad," Jack said, sounding sleepy, although he wasn't. He just wanted his dad to leave. He didn't want to be with anyone. He wanted to cry.

Chapter 3

Jack was very quiet in the many weeks that followed. He wanted to be alone but he clung to his mother, wanting her all to himself, but knowing that soon she wouldn't be. He fought going to nursery school, and resisted her efforts to help him dress each morning. Until then he had participated in choosing his clothes for the next day, but that stopped. He refused to resume tying the laces of his sneakers, which he had proudly mastered months before.

He still played with his blocks and his Legos, but he was noticeably less enthusiastic about constructing buildings, not showing the same imagination or determination. And he pulled away when she tried to cuddle with him while he watched Sesame Street, although more than anything he wanted his mother to pull him on her lap and hug him. She looked at her beautiful boy with the blue eyes and blonde hair and her heart broke. Nothing penetrated his misery. The nursery school told Janet that Jack, whose increasing reluctance to go made him seem even more withdrawn, wasn't interacting as much with the other children. His parents grew more concerned.

His father took him to work with him on Saturdays, which Jack had always loved, but even they he remained quiet. His usual delight at the salutes the other soldiers made was gone. Mark watched his little boy, dressed in overalls with dinosaur sneakers, sit on the floor next to his desk and bend over a coloring book of trucks, but he saw that Jack wasn't even holding a crayon.

Nothing he nor Janet tried penetrated his look of total misery. Toys didn't break through his fugue. Nothing worked.

They consulted a psychologist who met with Jack, and in their sessions he used a doll to try to get Jack to open up about his feelings about the soon-to-arrive baby. Jack wouldn't talk to the doctor, though. He didn't want to talk to anyone.

As the baby's arrival became imminent the Bauers became increasingly frustrated and worried. They didn't know how to reassure Jack, who was becoming even more visibly distraught. They arranged for him to play more with his friends, especially with classmates who had younger brothers or sisters, to show him that all of the children in a family could be loved, but this made no impression on him. He couldn't, wouldn't be comforted.

The time for the baby to be born approached, and Jack's mom went to the doctor for more frequent check-ups. Jack went with her, and the doctor showed the baby to Jack on the sonogram. Jack wasn't interested. It was going to push him aside and take his parents' love from him. He hated the baby. He hoped it would never come.

Jack was awakened one night when his father came into his room to tell him that he and his mother were going to the hospital because the baby was about to be born. He said that their neighbor, Mrs. Jackson, would stay with Jack. Jack was upset; he wanted to go with his parents, but his father said they didn't permit children to go to the hospital. Jack knew that wasn't true. His friend Tommy had gone to the hospital when they took his tonsils out, so obviously they let kids go to the hospital. They don't care, he thought. They just don't want me anymore. And the stupid thing hasn't even been born yet.

Jack didn't want to go back to sleep so he and Mrs. Jackson sat in the living room. Jack wanted to watch TV, but there was nothing on at 2 in the morning, so despite himself he fell asleep. He only awoke when Mrs. Jackson told him it was time to get up for nursery school.

Jack refused to go. He wanted to wait for news that the baby had been born. He wanted to see it. He wanted to see what was taking his place.

Mrs. Jackson said that his parents insisted that he go to school, and that only made Jack angrier. They don't want me around, he thought. He refused to get into the clothes his mother had taken out for him the night before. He was determined to make things as hard as possible. Mrs. Jackson realized how upset Jack was, so she thought she'd let him decide for himself what to wear so he could feel that he had some control over the situation. But when he demanded to wear a bathing suit and his pool shoes she almost gave up in frustration. Reasoning with him, telling him that it was only February, that he had to wear regular clothes, was useless. She was one of the first to experience Jack's total stubbornness. But when he saw how upset she was getting he relented and finally agreed to dress, but not without d tears. After she put on his jacket and handed him the lunch his mom had prepared the night before she put him on the bus. Poor kid, she thought as he left for school. Janet and Mark are going to have their hands full.

Jack had a terrible day at nursery school. He and another boy got into a fight about the building blocks, a fight that Jack had started, and he was given a 'time out' and sent to the corner until he calmed down. Until Jack had learned about the baby he had never needed to be disciplined at the school. He'd certainly never been in a fight. As he sat there facing the wall with tears streaming down his face he felt angrier than he'd ever felt. No one cares, he thought. All anyone cares about is the stupid baby.

After a few minutes Jack was told he could re-join the other kids, who were sitting on the floor in a semi-circle to listen to a story one of the mothers was reading. The mothers took turns coming to the class, doing different things with the children. Several times earlier in the school year his mom had come to school and made brownies with the kids. They loved them, and for a few days afterwards Jack was the most popular kid in the class. But his mom hadn't come much since. He realized it was all because of the stupid baby growing inside her belly.

Just before lunch Mark Bauer came to the classroom. He watched Jack for a moment, silently sitting by himself despite the chatter of the other kids around him. He walked over to his son.

"Jack," he said. "You have a little sister."

Jack looked at his dad. He knew he was supposed to be happy, but he didn't feel that way. He was more miserable than ever. He didn't say anything.

"Why don't we go to the hospital, Son? You can see your mom, and the baby. Mommy's fine, by the way, and she wants to see you. So let's go."

Without a word Jack walked with his father to the hook where his jacket hung, not caring that he was breaking the rule by not putting his toy back on the shelf. Big deal, he thought. No one cares what I do anyway.

Mark sighed as he helped his son into his jacket. This poor kid, he thought. How do I get through to him? He's miserable, and I don't want him to hate the baby.

As they got into the Jeep to go to the hospital Jack didn't smile as he usually did when he got to ride around the base with his father. Nothing could cheer him up that day. Besides, he thought, Daddy said they don't let kids go to the hospital. So why are they letting me go now? He lied to me. He's lying about everything. They don't love me anymore.

Jack didn't even want to press the button in the elevator for the ride to the maternity floor. He looked as unhappy as a kid could look.

"Let's go see Mommy first," Mark said to Jack. "She can't wait to see you."

As they headed towards Janet's room the nurse stopped them. "I'm sorry, he can't go in now," she said, indicating Jack. "Your wife is nursing, and children can't be with the babies. He'll have to wait until the baby goes back to the nursery."

Mark saw the misery on Jack's face and felt helpless to alleviate it. "I'm sorry, Jack. We'll have to wait. Why don't we go downstairs and get some ice cream?"

"No, Daddy. I don't want any."

Jack had never before turned down ice cream, and Mark was at a loss as to what else to do. He wanted to comfort his son, but he couldn't think how.

"Jack, come here," he said, holding out his arms. "Let's talk, Son."

Jack went to his father, wanting very much to be held. He knew the baby would be.

"Daddy," he said through tears, "why amn't I enough? Why do you need another kid?"

"Oh, my God, Jack!" his father said, hugging him tighter. "Is that what this is all about? You think we're having another baby because we're not happy with you?"

Jack nodded, tears flowing, too miserable to talk.

"Oh, Jack, that's not so. Oh, Sweetheart, we want another baby because we love you so much! I know that doesn't make sense. Let me try to explain."

"You're so wonderful," he continued, hugging Jack and kissing him. "We love you, we're so glad to have you, that we know that another baby will be a joy for us, too. Not another child like you, there'll never be anyone like you. We're not having a baby because you're not wonderful, Son. It's because you are so wonderful. That still doesn't make sense, I know, but I don't know how else to explain it to you."

Jack felt his father's arms tighten around him, and for the first time since he'd been told about the baby he started to feel safe. "D'you mean you and Mommy still love me?" he asked between sniffles.

"Jack, we love you more than anything. We always will. We'll love the baby just as much, but not more than we love you. And because we love her doesn't mean we'll love you any less. The baby just means we'll feel more love, Jack. A mommy and daddy can love every child as much as anything, and that doesn't mean they love any one child any less. Do you think you understand now?"

Jack nodded. He didn't really understand, but he knew he felt better somehow. His father had said they weren't unhappy with him. They still loved him, and they wouldn't love the baby more. That was all that mattered. He had always trusted his parents. So if they said they would still love him he believed them. But he still wasn't sure about having a little sister.

Mark looked at his son, still enfolded in his arms. "Now, how about that ice cream?"

Chapter 4

Jack was finally able to open his eyes. He had been able to hear the murmured conversations in the ICU for some time, but had lacked the strength even to look at anything. The nurse saw his eyelids flutter and called the doctor over.

"Well, Jack," Dr. Garfein said, "welcome back. We thought we lost you. We did, for a few minutes there. You have pneumonia, and that put enough of a strain on your heart that it caused it to fail for awhile. That's why we intubated you and put you on a respirator. It's breathing for you so your heart doesn't have to work so hard and your lungs can expand more fully. That's good for fighting the pneumonia. So don't try to talk until we take the tube out, and that won't be for at least a few days. When you're stronger we'll give you a pen and paper, but not yet. Now you need complete rest."

Jack was too weak to protest, even if he could have spoken. His eyes closed again and he once more fell into a deep sleep.

Chapter 5

His memory of the day Carol had come home from the hospital was fuzzy. He had seen his little sister in the hospital twice, and had even been able to hold her, with his dad's help, of course, and he had to admit that she was cute. She's really little, he thought to himself. And she cries a lot. He hadn't known that babies cried so much. He was a big boy, and big boys didn't cry. He didn't know how he knew that. His dad had never told him that, but he knew it just the same. And now with a baby sister he was really a big boy.

He was glad his mommy was coming home. Mark had painted the extra bedroom pale pink, and that was where Jack helped his daddy put the crib together. Jack was glad he wouldn't have to share his room with the baby. He also helped Mark set up the changing table and wash down the rocking chair. Jack liked the chair, which his father told him he had used to rock Jack in while he read him a story before bedtime. Mark told him he would move the chair back into Jack's room, and that he would be glad to read him stories in the rocker any time he wanted. Jack liked that idea. The baby wouldn't have everything that was his.

Jack was next door with the Jacksons when he saw his daddy pull into the driveway. He ran out to see his dad help his mom, who was holding the baby, get out of the car. He ran ahead to open the door for them, and he followed his parents up the stairs as they took off Carol's tiny sweater and hat and put her in the crib. Jack saw that she was sleeping, and he was glad. He could have his mother to himself, at least for awhile.

Jack and Mark followed Janet into her bedroom, where she quickly unpacked her small suitcase. Underneath her robe was a box wrapped in gift paper. "This is for you, Jack," she said, holding it out to him.

"Gee, Mommy," Jack said, surprised and happy. "What is it? Who's it from?"

"Open it, Jack," his dad said.

Jack tore off the paper and was thrilled to see a toy oil tanker. Trucks were his favorite toys. "Thanks, Mommy. Thanks, Daddy. It's great!"

"It's not from us, Sweetheart," his mother told him. "It's from Carol."

"What?" he asked in confusion. "Carol got this for me? But how? She's too little!"

"That doesn't matter, Jack. It's a present from her. She wants you to know how happy she is that you're her brother."

"Can I play with it now?" Jack asked "I want to show it to Tommy." Tommy Murphy was Jack's best friend, and he lived down the street. "Can I? Will you walk me over, Daddy?"

"Sure, Son," Mark replied. "We'll go now. I want Mommy to get some rest while Carol's sleeping. She'll probably be up pretty soon, so it'll be good if we men are out of the house for a while."

Jack was thrilled. His daddy had never referred to him as a man before. He felt really grown up. He'd been right, he decided. Maybe it wasn't so bad to have a little sister.

Jack still had that toy truck. Wherever he'd gone, wherever he'd lived, that little tanker truck was on his bookcase, right next to a picture of Carol.


	6. Part VI

Part VI

Chapter 1

After that Jack's recovery from pneumonia was uneventful. In another week he was again able to go to Kim and Chase's house, and he was steadily regaining his strength without most of the pain that he'd previously experienced. He was eating better and put back some of the weight he'd lost in the hospital. He wasn't yet able to work out, of course, and he looked forward to the time when he could, but if he'd learned one thing with his 'advancing age' (he refused to think of himself as 'getting old'), it was that some things couldn't be rushed.

Melanie and Lee had brought little Jack to see his great-grandfather as soon as Jack was out of the hospital. He was thrilled to hold the baby, marveling again at how something so tiny could take over others' lives so completely, without even trying. Again he thought of how the baby was a continuation of Teri. That was the best part of all.

After two weeks at Kim's he pronounced himself ready to go home. He was able to walk the length of her house without stopping, and it was much bigger than his own small townhouse. There were no stairs at his place, either, and he promised to let Kim and Chase do the grocery shopping and other errands for him, at first at least. So reluctantly Chase drove him home.

Although he wouldn't admit it Jack was tired when he walked into his house, and he sat down heavily while Chase put some groceries away for him. With milk, juice, bread, cereal, some chicken Kim had prepared and other things that only had to be heated or 'nuked' Jack would be okay on his own, although Kim wished he hadn't insisted on going home so soon. She would check in with him daily, of course, and one or more of her kids would be sure to stop by from time to time. Jack should be okay on his own, so long as he took it easy.

Jack was glad when Chase was satisfied that he was comfortable and left. It's good to be alone, he thought, and then was surprised. It had been a long time since he'd felt that way. In fact, he didn't remember the last time. But after the tumult of the hospital and Kim's house, where, despite their best intentions he had no privacy, Jack really was glad to have some time to himself. As long as it doesn't last too long, he thought ruefully. I don't want to have to go through that again just to get some attention. He smiled to himself at his poor attempt at humor.

He knew better than to fight his recuperation. He took things slowly, letting Kim do the shopping for him at first, then accompanying her to the supermarket before going alone. He accepted the doctors' caveat that he couldn't do laps yet, and he contented himself for the time being with walking across the shallow end of the pool a few times. He didn't berate himself for the stops he had to make when he took slow walks around his townhouse complex. He knew that there was no point in being impatient, for who would he be impatient towards? It was his body, and it was doing as well as it could. He accepted that it wouldn't be rushed. God, he thought. I've finally grown up.

He was still bothered by the accident. In the more than a month since the other driver had not been found. Jack was disquieted by the thought that they might never find the man who'd driven the van, and he tried to convince himself that it might have been just an accident. He had been out of CTU for awhile now. There was no reason for anyone to want a piece of him after all this time. Still, his gut told him that it hadn't been unintentional.

He'd never seen the van coming, and he knew he had been alert behind the wheel. With the many driving courses Jack had taken during his years at CTU, not just the defensive driving classes available to the public, but others, more specialized, for agents who might be followed, or who might even at times need to call attention to themselves, he'd become a superb driver. He knew what had happened that night. He admitted to himself that his had not been a simple accident. There was more involved.

Tony told him that the CTU investigation had come up empty. The marks the van had left on Jack's SUV were from paint that was standard manufacturer's white, nothing that could be traced. And there were thousands of white vans in LA with dents.

Chapter 2

His recuperation continued, although certainly not at a pace Jack liked, but he was smart enough not to fight it. As six weeks passed he felt his strength returning and he slowly resumed greater activity. He could walk around his neighborhood with only a few stops on the benches placed around the complex, and he had started driving again. A couple of laps in the pool at a far slower pace than before left him only slightly winded. His mood improved with his returning independence, and he let himself believe that he might someday recover his strength. He knew not to let his hopes get too high, but being Jack it was hard for him to accept limitations of any kind. Still, he was grateful for his recovery. He would take what he could get. That in itself was different from any attitude he'd had before.

The knocking on the door woke Jack. God, it's early, he thought, and was surprised to see that it was already 8:30. I didn't realize it was so late, he said to himself as he slowly pulled on his jeans over the boxers he had slept in. He walked barefoot to the door and was careful to look out the peephole before opening it. Whoever drove the van was still out there someplace, possibly still after him..

The woman standing outside had half-turned from the door and seemed to be looking up the street. Jack didn't recognize her so he put the chain on the door before he opened it, thinking ruefully that in the 'old days' he would never have bothered with such a thing when there was 'just' a woman on his doorstep. He'd never been sexist, but he was a realist. A woman alone had never been a threat to him.

"Yes?" he said. "May I help you?"

She turned back and faced him. "Mr. Bauer? My name is Laura Gaines. May I speak to you?"

"Gaines?" Jack asked. He guessed her to be about thirty-five. "Are you related to Ira Gaines?"

"He was my father," she said. "I'd like to ask you a few questions about him."

"I don't know what I can tell you about him, Ms. Gaines. It was a long time ago, and everything I knew was in the official reports. The CTU ones have been declassified by now."

"I know, Mr. Bauer, but may I please come in? I really need to speak with you."

Jack had long ago learned to trust his instincts and go with his gut, although he hadn't always heeded it, often to his regret, and it was giving him a message now, loud and clear. The message was: No! For once Jack chose to be cautious.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Gaines. There's nothing for us to talk about."

He closed the door but didn't walk away. Through the peephole he saw her remain on the step, and noticed that she was carrying a tote bag. Sticking out of the top were what looked like knitting needles. She looked at the door for a full minute before walking to a car parked across the street. Then she drove away.

Chapter 3

The newspaper didn't hold his interest over breakfast, for he was too distracted by the visit from Laura Gaines. He hadn't thought of Ira Gaines in years, decades, really; it was a part of the awful day when Teri died, and it was a day Jack chose not to re-live.

As he sipped his coffee he tried to concentrate on the editorials and the op-ed page of the LA Times. He had never been politically minded as a younger man because that simply hadn't been his inclination; his interest was in English literature, and politics just wasn't something he'd particularly cared about. Since retiring he found himself more interested, though, and while he had always taken the time to vote (he had never understood how some people said they 'couldn't be bothered;' what else had he risked his life for, anyway?) he now found the subject more absorbing.

When he had dinner with his tennis friends they sometimes talked politics, but they always managed to keep it light. Two of the men had very strong political beliefs, and they had all realized early on that if they wanted to maintain their budding friendship they couldn't get into arguments. So more often than not, after discussing something in the headlines the talk shifted to sports, and they all inwardly relaxed. Still, Jack wanted someone with whom he could talk about more substantive things.

He didn't know how to go about widening his circle of friends, although he knew it was necessary to deal with his loneliness. He'd never had close friends, except in the army, when their shared experiences had led to a natural, easy camaraderie. But because as a mature man he'd never been socially outgoing, his friends had largely been the husbands of Teri's friends, men he would watch baseball with while their wives talked. They had things in common, all being in the same basic stage of life, kids around the same age, similar education and economic backgrounds, yet there was no real closeness there, no feeling of connection. After Teri died he had rarely seen these people, their visits over time tapering off to nothing.

He put on his running clothes although he knew he was only cleared by the doctors for a brisk walk. After checking the batteries in his walkman he set off, going at a leisurely pace just to let his muscles get used to the idea. He had a new Thelonious Monk tape in the deck, and he began to settle into a quicker rhythm. He walked over a mile before he found himself at the strip mall. He went into the convenience store and bought a bottle of water before he started for home.

He was still absorbed in the tape, his mind keeping the beat with the drums, when a white van pulled up beside him. He only started to look up when the door opened, and it was too late when the men reached out to grab him.

Chapter 4

He was surprised to see Laura Gaines standing over him when he came to. "You could have made this easier, Mr. Bauer, if you'd just talked to me this morning. In fact, when the van hit you we hadn't meant to hurt you. We just wanted you to come with us. But unfortunately things got out of control and we put you in the hospital. Sorry about that," she said, obviously not sorry at all.

Jack tried to put it together but things didn't fit, and he knew it wasn't just because whatever sedative they'd given him hadn't yet fully worn off. After all these years, why would anyone kidnap him to ask about Ira Gaines?

"What do you want?" he asked the woman. "I told you I don't know anything else about your father. All that happened a long time ago. It's what - thirty-two years? You must have been a baby then. Is that what this is about? You want to know about your father? Everything's in the police report, I told you that. But you're so desperate you'd grab me off the street? What's really going on?"

"There's more than that, Mr. Bauer. Obviously. But since you've made me go to all this trouble now you'll just have to wait. I have other things to tend to. So I'll see you later, Mr. Bauer. I hope you enjoy the rest of your day."

When the metal door slammed shut and he heard the lock turn Jack looked around the gray windowless room. It was completely, utterly bare. There was nothing there with which he could try to get out. No wonder they didn't bother to restrain me, he thought. There's no need.

Sitting with his back against the cold wall, his still-healing ribs sending him a strong message of discomfort, he pulled his knees to him to try to ease the pain. He concentrated on trying to figure out what was going on. What information could he possibly have that would warrant this? Why would this woman go to these lengths just to ask about something that had happened more than thirty years ago? With this question repeating through his mind the remains of the sedative took over, and again he fell asleep.

The stiffness in his body when he awoke made it almost impossible for him to stand. Each movement was a reminder that he was sixty-seven and still recovering from a near-fatal injury. His heart wasn't what it had been, and his breathing was still somewhat labored. Years ago he had developed arthritis in his shoulders and knees, the result, the doctors said, of all of the injuries he'd experienced over his career. He'd refused to let it stop him, had fought against it even slowing him down, and his fervent devotion to working out was not just the result of years of habit but of an utter unwillingness to give in to something that was so draining him, and a fear of not being able to care for himself. That was his greatest fear of all, unspoken, but always in the back of his mind. He worked to keep his body as strong as possible so he would never lose his self-reliance. But his present situation showed that it was fruitless to even try to ignore the physical limitations his body was imposing on him.

All of this went through his mind as he tried to get to his feet. He couldn't overwhelm anyone who came through the door, probably not even the thirty-five-year-old woman, he acknowledged ruefully. He had to wait and see what was going to happen, and try to find a way to exploit any opening. He was used to planning, not just waiting to see what developed, and it went against the grain of everything he'd ever done. The feeling was depressing as hell, but Jack had always been a realist, something that had helped him survive so many near-impossible situations.

He was fully alert when he heard the lock open and Laura Gaines again entered. "I see you're awake, Mr. Bauer. I hope you had a good nap."

Jack was concerned by her statement. Had she been in before, and it hadn't awakened him? How else would she know that he had been sleeping? Or was there a camera he'd overlooked? A glance around told him that wasn't the case. Unless they're using one of the new microscopic ones, he thought. He knew that cameras had been developed with a lens that was no bigger than a spot in the paint, the body of the camera, also miniaturized, placed on the other side of the wall or ceiling. Had he missed that? They were almost impossible to spot. Perhaps he had been under surveillance all along?

That thought hadn't occurred to him before, and it further disheartened him. He knew that his sharpness was gone, but to that extent? If he was that out of it now, his chances of extricating himself from the situation were far less. His hopes plummeted. No one would know where to look for him. Hell, no one even knew he was gone.

Chapter 5

"I still don't know what you want, Ms. Gaines. Tell me and I'll give you all the information I have so you can let me go. No hard feelings. Just let me go and we'll forget about all of this."

"How nice of you, Mr. Bauer," she said, her sarcasm unmistakable. "You killed my father, yet you say 'no hard feelings?'"

"That was thirty-two years ago, Ms. Gaines. Why now?"

She looked at him with not quite a smile, more a look of...disdain? No, that wasn't it, he thought. She's playing with me. She's enjoying this. She knows she's calling the shots. That's what that look is – satisfaction.

"All in due time, Jack." He noticed the increased familiarity. No more formality, no more 'Mr. Bauer.' He didn't know what that meant, but somehow it sounded taunting. "We'll bring you something to eat soon. And if you have to use the men's room tell me. I know you older men seem to need to use it more often."

Definitely taunting, Jack thought. "Yes, I'd appreciate it," he said, thinking that not only could he relieve himself but he could get a look around.

She noticed how stiffly he rose and started for the door and her satisfaction increased. He's definitely having a hard time, she thought. Good.

As Jack walked a man appeared, holding a pistol. Jack had known that there was more than one person involved in his abduction, so he wasn't surprised to see him. Nor was he surprised by the gun. People weren't snatched off the street by unarmed thugs.

As he walked through the door Jack saw that he was in some sort of warehouse. There were large boxes stacked well over his head, with pallets holding more. The goods seemed to be electronics, with some boxes labeled 'television' and others saying 'plasma screen.' Very upscale, he thought, but he didn't see how it mattered. It certainly didn't help tell him where he was.

There were large windows, but they were also above his head, way too high for him to reach even if he was able to jump, which he was all too aware he couldn't do. He didn't see anything that would help him escape.

The man with the pistol poked him in the back, and Jack walked down an aisle of boxes, realizing that the warehouse was far larger than he'd thought. Room to hide, he saw, but just getting away was useless unless he knew where to head, not to mention try to run to. And so far he hadn't seen anything that looked like a way out.

At the end of the aisle the man poked him again, and Jack turned towards what looked like an office. It was glass-walled, but there didn't appear to be anyone inside. There has to be a phone there, he thought, but he didn't see any way to get to it. Another poke and he was directed to a door that said 'washroom.' "Leave the door open," the man ordered. He went in and availed himself of the facility, and after Jack washed his hands the man indicated with the gun that he was to leave.

As they reversed the route from the men's room Jack spotted a possible way out. A hi-lo, the machine used to stack pallets of boxes, stood at the end of the next aisle, the key in it. Now or never, he thought, and lunged at the man with the gun. The surprise of the attack enabled Jack to knock the man down despite his terribly weakened condition, and although he couldn't pick up the gun he was at least able to kick it away. He then headed for the hi-lo, which fortunately started as soon as he turned the key. As he put the machine in gear he adjusted the lever to put the prongs that lifted the pallets to chest level. He drove straight for the man and pinned him to the wall between the prongs. Jack jumped out, taking the key, and ran towards the office. The office door was locked, and he had no time to look for something to break it with. He knew that the outside door had to be near there. As he ran towards the adjacent loading dock he saw that he was right. To the side of the office, next to the dock, was a door, and Jack went straight through it. An alarm sounded as he pushed the door open, but Jack kept going. He jumped down from the dock, the jarring of the landing sending pain through his body, but he took off. He had no idea where he was going, he didn't even know where he was, but he had started this and he wasn't about to stop.

Chapter 6

He heard footsteps behind him but he didn't take the time to turn around. His experience kicked in and he moved along; running impossible, he kept as low as he could, ignoring the agony the crouching caused in his knees. He wouldn't let the pain in his chest stop him, either.

He got to a fence and saw with dismay that the gate was padlocked. His days of scaling fences were long over, and he realized that he had to use his wiles to get away. His body would be of no assistance. But as he looked around he saw a tear in the fence, maybe eighteen inches long. How the hell can I get through that? he asked himself. On these knees? But he ran to it nonetheless, realizing that there was most likely no other way.

He again heard footsteps, but as distant as they sounded they were still there, so he concentrated on what he had to do. He dropped to the ground and pulled the fence back, then started to crawl through it. It was taking forever; his knees weren't strong enough to propel him through, and with his not-yet-healed ribs he couldn't use his arms to move himself. He cursed his condition but didn't stop. As he slowly managed to wiggle through on his stomach he started to sigh with relief, but it turned to a moan when he tried to stand on the other side and found that his knees wouldn't support him. Time was running out, he knew, and he fought through the pain to lean on his hands to help him push up. He rested for a moment by leaning back against the fence, but he knew he couldn't take more time than that. Dammit! he thought to himself. Goddamn body! Just a little longer. Just this once.

He pushed away from the fence and forced himself to stand. He limped through a yard filled with more pallets, and gradually was able to break into what he could only think of as a slow walk. Anything more was beyond him, he knew, and after cursing again he concentrated on figuring out which way to go.

He followed an aisle that seemed to go through the pallets until he saw a street. He was clearly in a warehouse district and the area seemed deserted, but he hoped that if he could get away he could at least hide long enough to figure out something else. With that goal he moved faster, likening himself to a speeding turtle, and passed two more warehouses. He didn't want to try to hide in the first, or even the second. Those would be the first places they'd look. The third was small, too easily searched, so he headed for the fourth. Beyond it he saw railroad tracks, and for the first time he let himself feel some optimism. Tracks had to lead to somewhere with people, at least eventually, although following them would put him out in the open. He cursed the lack of a weapon. Nevertheless his gut told him to go with the tracks, and when he'd been smart enough to listen to it his gut had rarely in the past let him down. So he headed for the back of the warehouse, and the tracks.

He hadn't yet been able to stand up straight so the bullet whizzed over his head and he dove for the ground, knowing as he did so that he wouldn't be able to get up. Just that little exertion had exhausted him, and he knew he had no options. He tried to wiggle on his stomach to get off the path but the pain in his chest was so intense that he couldn't breathe. He couldn't get away.

Chapter 7

I never even realized that they took my gun, he berated himself as he prayed for strength to get out of his exposed position. I never noticed. He couldn't recall ever being as angry at himself for something he'd done. He'd blamed himself for everything, he always had, but those were always regrets. This was something he could have controlled, and it hadn't even occurred to him. He felt more helpless than ever.

The voices seemed to surround him, and he girded himself mentally for his upcoming re-capture. Instead, no one appeared. The voices seemed to be moving off to his left, away from where he lay.

No, someone was still there. More than one. He strained to hear, but the words were indistinct. Then the volume increased.

"Laura'll kill us," one male voice said. "She'll never believe that he was able to escape. She'll think we set him free."

"And it'll be bad enough if she does think he escapes. How the hell could that old dude get away from us?" That was from a second man.

"C'mon, Luke, you're cool with her," came a third voice. "If you explain it to her she'll get over it."

"Yeah, right," 'Luke' replied. "She's one tight-ased btch. She's a great lay, but that don't mean she's the forgivin' type. We gotta get outta here."

Jack had frozen in place, frustrated as hell with his inability to do anything about his situation. All I can do is stay put, he berated himself. And hope they stop searching.

The men started walking again, and Jack thought their footsteps were coming closer. He made himself push off from the ground and onto his side, and then he rolled slowly under a bush. It was the best he could do, and he knew it would never be good enough.

He heard two more gun shots, and felt his heart jump. That was the last thing he could afford, and he well knew it. The shots stopped, but Jack didn't know what they'd been aimed at, or even if there were others searching for him. There were no more voices.

The strain on his stomach as he lay under the bush for what seemed like hours was becoming unbearable. The pressure in his chest was tightening perceptibly, and his weakness had grown along with it. But he'd never let himself die like that. There had to be enough left in him for one last stand. God, he thought. Please let me make that literal.

He inched forward, propelled by wriggling his hips, slower even than he was as he squeezed through the fence, but at least it was progress. He dug in his toes and gained more speed as he pushed off with alternating feet, and he was able to hide himself under a box of abandoned chicken cages. The old feathers made his nose tickle, and he reached up to stifle a sneeze just as he heard another shot.

"Well, look at that," Voice Number One said. "Look who we found."

Jack knew the man was behind him, but he delayed turning around. He was surprised when he heard the second man say, "He's dead."

Chapter 8

He couldn't do anything but lie there as the darkness increased. He didn't understand what he had heard, but it didn't matter. The Voices, Luke and the other men, were still out there, and he could no longer hear what they were saying. He was cold lying there, the dust was unbearable, for he'd jogged the cages when he hid beneath them and the caked-on feathers and dirt had been dislodged. He was fighting constant urges to sneeze, ruing the day he'd stopped his allergy shots, reminding himself that the shots had only been for hay fever and pollens, wondering why his mind was wandering like that. Maybe it was the cold, maybe it was the pain, but he had to keep his wits about him, even if he couldn't do more than that to save himself. He wasn't going to die with his last moment of alertness filled with thoughts of chicken.

Luke's voice became louder. "Damn!" he said, "it's Ned, the guy who was guarding Bauer. Who the hell shot him? How the hell did he get over here? I thought Bauer trapped him. And where is Bauer?"

"He'da never made it this far," Number Three said. "We gotta search those warehouses we passed."

Number Two was still thinking about Ned. He said, "Ya musta hit him with one of your shots, Luke. Laura'll kill you."

There was a pause. "No, it wasn't me. And it wasn't you neither. This guy was hit with a shotgun. We only got handguns. I don't know who shot him. Somebody else is out here."

There was more silence, and the men's discomfort seemed palpable. The thought of another armed man out there was decidedly unsettling.

"It's too dark to look now. We gotta wait, unless we hear somethin'. But Jeez, we should be the only ones out here. Noone else was supposed to be here, 'cept us and Ned. Do ya think someone's in the warehouse? Maybe someone heard the shots and the cops is comin'. We gotta get outta here."

"No, we can't leave," Luke decided. "We gotta find Bauer. If we don't someone else will, and our goose'll be cooked. Like them chickens that was in the cages." He had seen the stack, but it didn't occur to him that someone could be hiding there. He paused. "That old man couldn't gotten outta here. Didn't ya see he couldn't hardly stand? Even if he got to the warehouse he'd never be able ta get out. He'll be there in the mornin.'"

"What if Laura comes back?" 'One' wanted to know. "She'll be mad as hell."

"She's not comin' back, Jerk. She said she's goin' back to town."

'Town' has to be LA, Jack thought. But where the hell am I?

The rain fell harder after it started with just a drizzle, and Jack felt the chills start to make his teeth chatter. He knew he couldn't survive a night outside like this. Pneumonia was something he was now very well aware of, and the thought of it made him feel even more helpless. Even doing nothing, I'm dead, he thought. I'll die of exposure.

The sound of beer cans being popped open was unmistakable, as was the smell of the smoke from the fire the men had lit under an overhang. Why they weren't just going back to the warmth and dryness of the warehouse where Jack had been held was something he couldn't fathom. He'd just have to lie there, and take his chances in the morning. He hoped they wouldn't decide to look around in the meantime.

He was awakened by footsteps, although he couldn't make out any figures. It was still the middle of the night, he realized, and he couldn't understand why someone was roaming around. Then he heard drunken giggles following a stumble, and then the soft sound of urination. Jack's discomfort increased as his need to relieve himself entered his mind.

The opening of more cans brought him back to full wakefulness. He supposed that the men must have also fallen asleep, but their drunken comrade had reminded them that there was beer they still hadn't drunk. Jack cursed himself for dozing off, for he might have missed a chance to get away, after they'd passed out. He resolved to stay up, but the chill and the pain, together with his age, made him unable to keep that promise.

He awoke int he dim of rainy daylight which made things somewhat visible, but there was nothing Jack wanted to see. He was convinced that he'd never move again, for the stiffness that had increased from the cold and the damp now seemed total. He tried to stretch himself, conscious of the need to do so silently, but it didn't matter anyhow. He couldn't get his muscles to respond.

"Hey, Doofus, get up!" Luke said. "We gotta start lookin' for the old guy." The sound of a body being kicked was followed by a "What the fck?"

"You, too, Curt, get up!" Luke commanded. "We gotta find him. Get the fck up!"

Number One and Number Two grumbled loudly, and Luke yelped when he was hit with something. The sound of a full beer can hitting the floor brought a slight sense of satisfaction to Jack. He could hear one of the men shake the can and aim it at the other, who ran away from them, in Jack's direction.

"C'mon, guys, we don't have time for this. We gotta go find him!" Luke whined.

Jack continued to try to flex his joints, hoping for an opportunity to get away, praying that his body would cooperate if such a chance presented itself. He wasn't happy to hear more gun shots.

"There's somebody there," 'Curt' said. "I saw him when I was runnin'. He's over there, near that stack a cages."

"Yeah, another 'guard'"? Luke sneered. "Like the one someone shot last night? There wasn't no more guards, just Ned. C'mon, if there was really someone there he woulda come after us. Let's go. Or do you want Laura to get us, Curt?"

"I'm not afraid a her, Jackass. If you don' wanna check it out and it's Bauer, Laura'll be after you."

"Yeah, like I'm afraid, right? And it wasn't Bauer. He didn't have no shotgun. Let's go."

The relief Jack was starting to feel ended with another gun shot. "What the fck are you doin', man? D'ya want people to come lookin'?" Luke was clearly getting mad.

"Just makin' sure, that's all," Curt said, and the footsteps started to recede.

Chapter 9

Jack didn't even try to move for what seemed like hours, other than to flex his muscles and joints, which were slowly starting to respond. As the dim light brightened a little he crawled out from under the mound of cages and got to all-fours. He had to stay like that for awhile, trying to control his ragged breathing and willing more blood to circulate to his arms and legs. After still more time he put a hand on the stack and pushed up, ignoring the dizziness, and he was eventually able to stand. He forced his knees into a crouch and went into the abandoned warehouse, which provided at least some relief from the rain, and he leaned against its bare wall while he tried to figure out his next move.

He saw no alternative, praying that the men had really left, and slowly walked outside the building to the back, where he had seen the tracks the day before. There were bushes along the side and between the ties; obviously this spur wasn't used frequently, but still it headed somewhere, and the bushes gave him some cover. Going along the side was also easier than trying to run - hell, walk, he admitted - on the ties and gravel between them.

Each step was harder than the one before, for his exhaustion was increasing beyond anything Jack thought it could, and rather than moving faster he was barely making any progress at all. Still, he was surprised that no one seemed to be coming after him, but he couldn't let his guard down. Although Luke and his gang had moved off, he knew they were right: there was still someone out there, armed with a shotgun. Where he was, Jack had not idea. Caution was required. He hadn't expected to be abducted in the first place, and he wasn't going to relax until he was safe.

As he rounded a bend he saw that he was coming towards a train yard. More room to hide, he thought. It'll be a lot harder for them to find me here. He crossed over other tracks and ducked behind a box car. He had to rest.

He knew he couldn't stay there long, but he had to get air into his lungs. The pain in his chest was unbearable. If he didn't get some respite soon he knew he'd collapse. Dammit! he cursed again, once more feeling betrayed by his body. That it was rebelling against all the battering inflicted upon it during his long career didn't excuse its letting him down now. One more time, he repeated to himself. Just this once.

When he heard voices he didn't know if they came from the men after him or potential saviors. He forced himself to move forward to hear what they were saying, trying not to give his position away. He crossed over more tracks, taking cover behind a tanker car. He could hear the men speaking. "They're cutting back the overtime again," one complained to the other. "And my kid is starting college next year."

"Yeah," his companion agreed. "We've been counting on that money, too." Jack exhaled, not even having realized that he'd been holding his breath. He stepped out from behind the car.

"Please," he said, limping to the men. "I need help."

"You sure do, buddy," the first man said. "Can you walk? Do you want an ambulance?"

Jack realized that he must look as bad as he felt. "Yeah," he said. "And please call the cops. Tell them there are people after me. Then get out of here. You may be in danger."

The second man pulled out a cell and dialed 911 while the first man came towards Jack. "Here, sit down," he said, indicating a platform behind him. "Do you want some water?"

"I mean it. Thanks for your help, but get out of here. These guys mean business."

"Nah, we can take care of ourselves. And the cops are on their way." The second man had put his cell away and was walking towards Jack. "Who are these guys? Why're they after you?"

"I work for the government," Jack said, not thinking details were necessary. He hoped Luke and his men wouldn't pursue the matter, especially since he had no idea why anyone was after him. All of a sudden an even greater pain gripped his chest and he grabbed at it, at the same time he slumped down on the platform. No, he thought. No! Not again! Not now! But his body won out, and he lost consciousness.

Chapter 10

He was relieved to see that he was in the hospital when he came to, but he felt overwhelmingly tired, and frightened. A nurse saw his eyes open and walked to him. "How are you feeling, Mr. Bauer? You've been asleep for quite awhile now. I'll get the doctor."

Jack looked around and realized he was back in the ICU. He'd spent enough time there lately to recognize it. He didn't know what hospital he was in, but all intensive care units seemed to look pretty much the same. But this wasn't where he'd been before.

A doctor walked towards him. "Mr. Bauer? I'm Dr. Walks. I'm a cardiologist. You've had another heart attack, but we think you're through the worst of it. I have the records from your prior hospitalizations, and I've spoken with the doctors who treated you last month. You've had more heart damage, Mr. Bauer. You're going to have to take it very easy from now on. But we think you'll make it."

Jack was relieved, very relieved at the last part; the succession of heart attacks wasn't good, he knew, and the cumulative damage would eventually kill him, but he had a chance to survive, at least for awhile. He acknowledged the information at the same time he cursed it. The thought of being an invalid made him think of the gun in his bedside table at home. Sitting in a wheelchair with a blanket over his lap would not be his future. He was sure of that.

He was pleased to see Kim walk towards him. "Dad, oh, Dad, you scared the hell out of me," she said. "What happened? Why are you in Oxnard?"

He knew how he'd gotten there, they'd abducted him in that white van, but he had no idea that he was in Oxnard, why he'd been taken fifty miles away. There were a lot, a hell of a lot, of warehouses closer to home. What was in Oxnard? Why there? And why had they grabbed him in he first place?

"I don't know, Baby," he said.

"What do you mean 'you don't know,' Dad? How did you get here?"

"I was grabbed, Kim. Some men grabbed me and pulled me into a white van. Probably the same one that hit me."

Kim's look of concern changed to one of fear. "My God, Dad, then that was no accident." She paused to think. "I'm calling Tony. He's got to find out what's going on, and get agents to protect you. And how did you get away? Oh, never mind, that'll wait. Let me call Tony first."

The nurse saw Kim pull her cellphone from her bag and reminded her that she couldn't use it in the hospital. Kim was momentarily annoyed, then asked the nurse to let her use the phone in the ICU. She explained that it was an emergency, that her father's life was in danger, but the nurse was dubious. Only Kim's earnestness convinced her.

"All right," she said, "but keep it short. We can't have the phone here tied up."

"All right," Kim echoed. "I'll be quick." She followed the nurse to the central station and quickly called CTU. She told Tony what had happened, and he said he would send agents to guard Jack right away. He also told Kim that he would come there himself.

Kim returned to Jack's bedside and repeated her conversation with Tony. "Better call hospital security in the meantime, Kim," Jack instructed, each breath an effort. He wasn't going to kid himself that he could defend himself if he was attacked, and he didn't want to jeopardize the other patients either.

"Right away, Dad," she responded, and headed back to the phone. Jack watched her go and was upset that his daughter was once again worried about him, but he knew there was nothing he could do about it. Realism was still the name of the game for Jack, as it had always been. Except when it came to guilt. Although his daughter's safety was always more important to him than his own, he still had to accept that he couldn't always protect her, despite his need. Not everything was within his control. He realized that it never had been.

Chapter 11

He had finally gotten home after another ten days in the hospital and two more weeks again at Kim's to recuperate. He was more tired than ever, it seemed, and with each new episode (he hated the words 'heart attack') recovery took longer, and was less complete. He believed the doctors when they told him that his heart couldn't take much more.

The thought of life as an invalid still made him think of his gun. As much as he believed that suicide was the ultimate act of weakness and selfishness, he couldn't bear the idea of being totally dependent on others for his care. He resolved not to think about it, to concentrate instead on getting well, but accepting that he would always have such limits was so hard on him as to border on the impossible. He didn't 'feel his age,' whatever that was, at least mentally, because he didn't know how sixty-seven was supposed to feel, but he couldn't give up the image of himself as active.

He stood slowly from his recliner and walked to the kitchen to get a bottle of water. Staying hydrated was important, his doctors had told him, it helped the body function better.

He took his copy of "Ulysses" from the bookshelf, thinking that some Joyce was just what he was in the mood for. He'd always loved to lose himself in that book, and that was precisely what he needed. There were still CTU agents outside, he knew, and Tony's said they would be until they found out who had abducted him, and why. Jack had been able to direct them to the warehouse where he'd been held and they were searching for Laura Gaines, but so far they'd had no luck. Nor had they learned why she was after him. So Jack was still under guard and he chafed at it, but he was also glad. The days when he could protect himself were over and he was forced to acknowledge it. There was no point in being bullheaded about it. He wanted to live, and protection had to come from others. There was no way around it.

He covered himself with a comforter as he settled back in his chair to ward off the chill that he'd felt ever since his night outside the factory, and put on his glasses to read the book he'd propped in his lap. Fatigue came over him, and as he lay in the recliner his eyes closed. He hadn't really slept well since the abduction for he hadn't been able to relax; his mind kept going over the why of the situation, and he couldn't let it go. But exhaustion took over, and he finally fell into a deep sleep. The kind that lets you dream.


	7. Part VII

Part VII

Chapter 1

He really liked his new home. The base in Alaska is cool, Jack thought, pleased at his joke. He knew it would get really cold that winter, colder than he'd ever felt, his parents had said, but he thought about all the great snow ball fights he'd have, and didn't mind at all. What he liked best about the base was the indoor skating rink. He thought it was very funny when his dad told him the rink was indoors because it got too cold to skate outside. Yeah, right, he thought to himself, too cold for ice. Good one, Dad.

His father had been transferred there three months before, when they were nearing the end of Alaska's summer, which meant it was towards the middle of August. Although it had been nearly 70 degrees when they'd arrived, which had really surprised him, Jack knew that it was definitely colder, especially at night, where the central heating in the house was already on. The days were shorter now, too, by a lot, for in the middle of summer it stayed light almost all the time, light enough to read outside at 2 in the morning, but that had passed. His parents had let him stay up one night to let him see how light it was, and he was amazed, but even more so when they told him about the aurora borealis, the northern lights, which they'd said would be visible once it got dark. They'd also told Carol about it, and she'd seemed as fascinated as he. He was eager to see them, and he didn't have that long to wait. When winter started he went on an excursion with his father and Carol to see the lights, and after that he tried to stay up a few times, wishing it would get dark earlier so he could see them again, not yet realizing that it would soon be dark almost all of the time. However, most nights he was too tired from school and playing to stay up, and he wasn't quite 12 yet, after all.

One of the first things he'd done when he got settled in was to start skating lessons. There'd been a rink in Tokyo and he'd gone there a few times, but not enough to think that he had learned much, and he was really pathetic, he'd thought at the time. But all the kids at the base skated already, and hockey was the favorite sport; Jack was not going to be left behind. His competitive nature, together with his need to make friends, combined to make him determined to learn the game.

He wasn't happy when he was assigned to a group of younger kids to learn to skate, girls as well as boys, but he was at their skill level, and he would've gotten killed if he'd tried to play with the kids his age. They could literally skate rings around him, literally, and he had no idea how to defend himself against a well-thrown check, which the kids did even when they were supposed to be just skating. Jack practiced as often as he could, and after learning the basics he went on to wind sprints, cross-overs, backwards, all of the maneuvers necessary to play the game.

As with all sports he tried he became good at it and he did, and he finally started moving up the ranks, getting closer to his contemporaries. Although he became quite a good skater he didn't have the size of a defenseman or the real speed needed to become a great player, but he had deft hands, and he developed a good feel and timing for how to set up a shot with a well-placed pass.

As with Little League Mark Bauer followed his son's progress and supported him in every possible way. He went to every game he could, for the first time watching Jack struggle at something, then seeing him find his stride and ease into skating with his classmates, effective as a winger in getting the puck in front of the net, assisting on more goals than he scored, for he was too small and too light to be able to plant himself in the slot. Yet he was very capable of passing to his bigger teammates, who could withstand the checks the defensemen threw at them.

Jack still spent more time on the bench than on the ice, a fact that Mark knew grated on his son, but which Jack was learning to accept, although not happily. It was tough on him to acknowledge that he was not the best at something; in Little League he had clearly been a star, but he was clearly surpassed by most of his hockey teammates. Many of them had played 'pee-wee' starting at age six, after beginning to skate as early as two. Jack obviously had a lot of catching up to do, but he was too competitive to let that put him off the game; as everyone who knew him could predict it just made Jack work longer and harder. He got as much 'ice time' as possible, skating whenever he could to hone his basic skills, increase his speed, practice the more difficult maneuvers like backwards cross-overs. Forwards, such as wings, rarely had to do that, but Jack wouldn't be satisfied until he could make every possible move on the ice. He concentrated on the ones he would most likely need, though, for his ability to identify what was really necessary was already well-developed, and he didn't let the most difficult goals dissuade him, although he didn't apprehend the pun. It seemed, in fact, that the tougher the problem the harder Jack worked at it.

His mom, dad and Carol sat in the stands to watch Jack's first real game, playing for his team, the 'Rangers,' against another team in his league, the "Black Hawks." The Hawks were favored, having placed second in their division championship the previous year; the Rangers had been an also-ran, and that was putting it nicely. In fact they had been dismal, and no one expected much from them now. But they were a determined bunch of kids, competitive as hell, except the old-timers on the team weren't happy about the newcomers, and Jack was a part of that group. They resented being benched even in practice so the novice players could get ice time, and they never stopped giving their newer teammates a hard time. Jack, however, wouldn't let that deter him. He resented having to fight his teammates as he knew he would his official opponents, but he accepted that hazing was a normal part of the game, as it is with many sports, and he would survive it. He just hoped they wouldn't interfere with him when he actually got on the ice in a game.

Jack didn't see any action at all during the first period, although his more experienced teammates seemed hapless against the Hawks. Nevertheless between periods they directed most of their barbs at their junior teammates and were very nasty about it, although none of them had yet played. The coaches yelled at the oldies, telling them that they ought to be on each other's backs instead, for the poor level of play so far was solely their fault.

Jack had never heard coaches so critical of their team; it certainly hadn't been like that in Little League, but then, baseball was a more gentle sport, and the harshness of the coaches seemed to match the intensity of the game. It was enough to make Jack wary of actually playing, for he didn't want such criticism directed at him, especially when he knew his play wasn't up to the level of his longer-playing teammates: he knew he was bound to make more mistakes than they had already. But he had never been a quitter, and he wasn't going to change his nature now, even if he could have. The thought itself never occurred to him.

At the start of the second period the Rangers' center lost the face-off and the Hawks' right defenseman got possession and passed to his left winger, who deftly skated around the Rangers' flat-footed defenseman and scored. That was enough for the coach.

"Get over here!" he yelled at the players on the ice. "You're benched!"

He turned to Jack and the other boys on the bench. "Murphy, Anton, Bauer, get out there. Remember what you practiced. Play your positions. And only your positions. The goalie can't do it all. Girardi, Silverman, show these jerks how to play defense." He tapped each of the boys on the helmet. "What the hell are you waiting for? Get out there! And don't fck up!"

Jack felt unreal as he climbed over the boards. He was glad he didn't slip as his feet hit the ice, as his center, Murphy, did. Jeers from the other team could be heard, and Jack thought he heard a few from his own teammates, who'd just been benched, join in.

He'd learned teamwork playing Little League in Japan; as the short stop you were supposed to back up the second baseman as well as go for balls to the short outfield, so the attitude of his hockey team was hard for him to fathom. He knew what 'play your position' meant, but it wasn't quite like baseball: as a winger in hockey you were supposed to go in towards the net and dig for the puck around the boards, trying to pass it towards one of your own men positioned in the 'slot' in front of the goal. Meanwhile your defensemen were supposed to back up the forwards and guard the lines, ready to take a shot if the puck was passed to them. That was until the other team got possession of the puck; then the defense was supposed to skate backwards while the forwards tried to check the opponent to try to get the puck away as the other side headed for your own net. You were always supposed to play your position and 'play the man;' disciplining yourself not to 'play the puck' was the hardest part. Complicated, but Jack was catching on, and he was really enjoying the game, although he hated the attitude he saw on the ice from the boys on his own team even more than from his opponents. He wasn't going to let that spoil his first game, though; he knew what he had to do, and that was all that mattered.

Murphy lost the face-off and the Hawks got possession and headed for the Rangers' goal. Silverman, one of the defensemen, was great at skating backwards, and after a few steps to get ahead of the Hawks' left wing he turned around, facing the boy as he aimed for the net. Silverman flung himself to the ice to block the shot, something Jack had only seen the pros on TV do, and the Rangers got possession. More precisely, Jack found the puck on the end of his own stick, and he turned and headed for the Hawks' end, knowing their defensemen would be coming at him. He passed to Murphy just as the Hawks' defense headed for him but he somehow evaded their check, and he and Anton hurried to catch up to Murphy as Silverman and Girardi trailed to block the Hawks coming after them, just like they were supposed to. Anton got ahead and Murphy 'head-manned' the puck to him as he crossed the blue line. No one was more surprised than the Rangers players on the ice, including Jack; they had actually managed to make it down the ice in their proper positions.

Just as he'd been taught Anton passed to Jack after he skated over the line, and the Hawks' defenseman had to veer from his teammate to Jack. Before they got to him Jack quickly got the puck to Murphy, who took a shot at the net. The Hawks' goalie blocked it, but at least the Rangers actually had a shot on goal. It was their first of the game, something the more experienced boys hadn't come close to doing.

The Rangers fans clapped until their hands hurt, even with their gloves on, for the heated building still barely blocked the Arctic wind. They were disappointed when the team failed to score and lost 4-0, but they had played better than the team had done the previous year, and that in itself was a win. The new-comer 'kids' had shown up the boys who had so smugly derided them; it was only after the novices got the game going with that shot on goal that the senior players on the team finally got into gear.

In Little League the coaches treated their team to ice cream after a game; in hockey in Alaska, the reward was hot chocolate. Jack then went home with his family, keyed up from his first game, more determined than ever to improve his skills, and now willing and able to withstand the razzing of his more senior teammates. He could hold his head up with them now, and that suited his competitiveness. And his ego.

Chapter 2

He became even more excited about playing hockey than he had about baseball, although during the short Alaskan summers he still enjoyed that, almost as much as he loved just being able to play outside. Virtually all of the hockey players played baseball in the "off-season," as short as it was, for they were all active kids, and other means of entertainment in their isolated location were obviously limited.

Most of the adults used the make-shift golf course when the weather permitted, although there were signs that said "bears have right of way." The 'greens' were made of sand, with a roller to make a path from the ball to the cup, because the grass needed to make proper greens wouldn't grow there. Mark tried to teach Jack to play but he found it frustrating, despite his father's assurance that it was part of the game, and that all players felt that way, seemingly most of the time. When Jack saw the signs he got really scared, but again Mark reassured him. "Only a couple of people have actually seen bears here, Jack. If you ignore them, they'll pretty much ignore you."

Jack wasn't particularly comforted, but he was distracted when they got to the first 'green.' "Why is it called a 'green,' Dad?" There's no grass!"

Mark laughed as he explained the peculiarities of the course to his son, and Jack enjoyed making a path with the roller, although his actual attempts to get the ball in the cup were dismal. "You're doing great, Son!" Mark told him. "This is only your first time out, and lots of adults never get the hang of it. Here, let me show you how to hold the putter."

Jack went with his father a lot after that, and although Jack got better at it he was never happy with the way he played. He showed his frustration, and Mark tried to talk to him about that, too.

"Jack, no one can be terrific at everything. You're a great ballplayer. You're turning into a really good hockey player. If you're not a great golfer, so what? Are you enjoying yourself? That's all that matters."

"Yeah, Dad, I'm enjoying myself. I love spending time with you. It's just that it's so hard to get the ball where I want it. Each time I think I'm doing it right, but I'm not. I just can't get it."

"If we were home, Jack, I'd take you to a driving range, where you could hit buckets of balls and just practice. We don't have that here, obviously, so the only practice we can get is on the course itself. Don't pressure yourself. I want you to have fun. If you're not, then we don't have to play."

As always, Jack didn't want to disappoint his father, and he also wanted to master the game. Ego, again. He wasn't going to let anything get the better of him.

They continued to walk around the nine-hole 'course,' which Mark was glad was mostly flat and not heavily treed. In fact, there were hardly any trees at all, and not much brush; no matter how badly Jack hit the ball he could almost always find it. Losing it in the 'rough' would have just increased his frustration, and might have put him off the game for life.

So the Bauer men continued to play during the nice weather, and it was a good lesson for Jack: he had to learn to cope with the frustration he felt. He never mastered that, certainly; his father was sure he heard his son mutter "dammit" from time to time, but since that seemed to be a normal golfer's response - at any age - to a bad shot, Mark didn't come down on him. Language like that would never be tolerated at any time under any other circumstances, but Mark decided to let it go, and he didn't see any need to tell Janet. This was between father and son.

In a further acknowledgment of the harsh climate the base had an indoor complex that accommodated many different sports for the seemingly endless winter. In addition to a large pool and exercise room, tennis and handball courts, a running track, bowling alley and basketball court and a batting cage, there was a gym which in addition to facilities for volleyball and other sports had room to practice fielding and throwing. All of the families used the facility often, and after the first few times at the rec center the kids understood why their parents insisted that after swimming and showering or just playing they had to spend at least another hour there before going back into the cold. They all found out, the hard way, how chilled they got if they ignored the rule by going into the frigid air before their bodies had returned to their normal temperatures. Just another way of adjusting to one of the harshest climates, they learned, and because they were kids they were adaptable. All the activity made their time there more tolerable.

Jack had never experienced anything like life at the isolated base. The school never had outdoor recess; it wasn't in session during the summer months, and the weather during the rest of the year obviously didn't permit playing outside. So the kids learned how to make the most of their inside gym periods, and their after-school time at the rec center. They played as hard as they worked at their academic assignments, something of which their parents approved, and they found that the weather-imposed restrictions weren't unbearable.

Jack continued to excel at school, rarely needing help with his homework, for unlike most kids he was comfortable in all subjects. Many kids are good at either math/science or social studies/English; Jack enjoyed all of them, possibly because he did well at them all. He was popular with his teachers as well as his classmates, for he was mostly a happy kid, well-mannered, not combative with his peers and polite to his parents, teachers and other adults. He still kept a lot of his feelings bottled up, though, but because on the surface he seemed so outgoing his parents didn't realize this. Things seemed to be going so well that they thought he had come to terms with Mike's death, so his parents relaxed about that.

Jack managed to get into trouble from time to time, of course, but nothing serious, and he was only sent to the principal's office once, for teasing one of the girls. Before he even got there Jack felt terrible, for he saw that he had made the girl cry, and he realized without an adult having to tell him that that was wrong. Even though he didn't think that what he had said was so bad he learned a crucial lesson, that sometimes another's feelings were more important than his own.

When his parents saw that he understood this and that he felt genuine remorse, and that his apology to the girl was genuine, they felt that no punishment was necessary. Jack was harder on himself than they would have been on him; that he had learned the lesson was what mattered.

Jack was horrified, nevertheless, to see that other boys had picked up the teasing that Jack had started. Try as hard as he did to stop it, the situation had gotten beyond his control. The poor girl was tormented, and the teasing didn't stop until she stayed home from school for a week and the principal called a special assembly where he lectured the kids, sternly, about respecting one another and being cognizant of each other's feelings. This was the lesson Jack had just learned, but he realized the part he had played in the girl's suffering, and he hated himself for it. But when the little girl came back to school, strengthened by her parents' support, Jack apologized again and again. She saw that Jack was anguished by his role in the hurt she'd suffered, and told Jack that she forgave him. The relief he felt was so strong that it supported his new-found recognition that his actions could have consequences far beyond his intentions, and beyond his control.

This was one of Jack's first mature life lessons, and his parents noticed the difference it made in him. He was learning appropriate values on his way to adulthood. They were more proud of him than ever.

Chapter 3

Jack awoke, feeling more rested than he had in a long while, for once remembering his dream. He realized that his remorse at the hurt that girl had felt at causing her pain and being unable to stop what had spiraled out of his control was similar to his feelings about the hurt and fear he had caused first Teri, and then Kim, and how he couldn't control that, either. This had been the pattern of his life, he saw with sudden clarity.

He'd known that he was a control freak professionally, in the vernacular, a trait that had stood him in wonderful stead in his chosen line of work, but it was a definite drawback to his personal relationships. He wondered if he could change that, especially at this stage of his life, and further wondered if that would even be a good thing. 'I yam what I yam' he thought, quoting Popeye, wondering why he was trying to make a joke of it, even to himself. This part of him, something he suddenly acknowledged he, his subconscious at least, had known all along, threw him. This had shaped his marriage to Teri, his fatherhood of Kim, his other attempts at relationships, how he had conducted himself throughout his life. It had been a major cause of his problems with Teri, for his need to control had led him to discount her opinions and her needs, while letting him force his judgments, his decisions, his own needs, on her. No wonder Teri was so unhappy, he was finally able to admit. I tried to overwhelm her, and I pretty much succeeded because of my stubbornness, because of my need to impose my will on everything, because I had to be in control. I couldn't acknowledge that maybe I didn't know best.

He bitterly realized that it was a case of better late than never, and the force of it continued to prey on his mind, but most of all he wanted to tell Teri that finally he had learned what he should have known all along. It was one more in the long and growing list of things he wished he could tell her about, to apologize for. He'd give anything to undo the hurt he'd caused her.

Depression overwhelmed him with a speed he'd never before experienced. He'd fallen into this abyss before, and he hated the feeling of not being in control of his emotions. Control, again. Such a major force in his life, and he hadn't recognized how it had shaped everything about him. How could he have missed that? Or if he had known it, how could he have ignored it, sublimated it? What a master he was of self-deception. How he had lied, to everyone, to himself. He was a fake. He was a living lie.

He was totally enervated, unable to lift himself out of his chair. Not that he wanted to.

The memories still fresh from his dream, he again faced his need for control. It was so innately a part of his being that he knew he couldn't carve it out if he tried. That part, at least, he couldn't control. But the grief it had brought – not only to him, but to those he loved - that was hard to accept.

Control – a sign of insecurity? A belief, a deeply held belief, that he knew better than everyone? But why would he even have that belief? Again, a sign of insecurity? That he couldn't stand opposition, to have his opinions questioned? That he hid behind control to protect a fragile ego, as a means of deflecting others' ideas, which might be better than his? These thoughts were destructive, but he couldn't get them from his mind. The self-doubt they raised was new to him; he had had such control over himself, over his thoughts, that he had never let himself have self-doubts. His whole life had been framed by his lack of trust, of faith, in himself. His entire self-identity was a shambles. He had trouble getting his mind around it, for it made him question everything he was. He fought it, but he realized that these self-revelations were true. He wasn't, never had been, the man he'd thought he was, the man he wanted to be. He felt crushed, destroyed. No one should have ever counted on him. He had let down everyone in his life.

He knew he had to control these thoughts – again, control. What a horrible, hellish concept. If he didn't keep it under control – my God, he thought, it's impossible to escape – it would destroy him. He forced himself to draw on his inner strength, perhaps the last of it, to break free. He would force himself to put it out of his mind, at least his conscious mind, at least for awhile. It took every ounce of his ability, of his control.

But he couldn't rely on exercise to distract him, to release the endorphines that had so often made him feel better, for his physical condition was far from good enough to enable him to do much more than walk from room to room in his small house. His interest in his book, one of his favorites, was gone. TV, he knew, would not be able to keep him mentally involved. He was alone, and his only possible company was his thoughts.

He finally forced himself to stand and head for the kitchen. He hadn't eaten since the day before, and despite his lack of hunger he knew that in order to keep – let alone increase – his strength he needed food.

He decided to heat a can of soup, one of the easiest things to do, and he sat at the table with the newspaper while he waited for the microwave to beep. He tried to concentrate on the upcoming presidential race while he ate, determined not to let his earlier thoughts again take control – dammit! – of his mind.

The fullness of his stomach made him sleepy, but he was afraid of nightmares. He couldn't face that, so he headed back to the den where he turned on the hockey game. He would lose himself in that, hoping vainly that the Kings might win, engaging in the magical thinking of a child that their win might somehow enable him to win out over his memories, his thoughts. But despite himself, he soon dozed off. Instead of watching it, he was once again playing hockey.

Chapter 4

Although he realized he'd never be a star Jack had gained a lot of confidence in his ability to hold his own. Hockey was by far his favorite sport, even though he'd been better at baseball, and he was glad for the opportunity to play so often. Jack was thoroughly enjoying Alaska, although he knew Carol hated it. While Jack had a lot of friends because of his outgoing personality and involvement in sports, there weren't that many kids Carol's age, and although she became a very friendly, giving person as she grew up the lack of contemporaries was making her miserable. Their parents knew it, and tried to see that she spent time with those kids who were her age, but the girls had formed cliques and Carol had been excluded. Jack loved his sister dearly and he felt her unhappiness, but like his parents he didn't know how to help her.

Carol too had learned to skate and had become very good at it, but she showed no interest in hockey although there was a girls league, and unfortunately figure skating is a solitary sport. She took lessons and, like Jack, spent as much time at the rink as she could, but it didn't help, in fact it emphasized her feeling of isolation. Jack tried to skate with her as often as possible, but she didn't just want time with her brother. She needed time with her peers, and there was nothing Jack could do about it. All he could do was provide her with companionship, whenever she would accept it.

The sight of the two young blonde heads going around the rink, Carol sometimes doing balletic circles around her brother, he sometimes challenging her to a race that he often let her win, to her total infuriation, was a joy to see. But being left out of the circle of girls her age wore her down, made her withdraw, caused her to pull away from her brother as well as their parents. Her schoolwork suffered, and her grades, which had always been as good as Jack's, plummeted.

Jack's parents made arrangements for Carol to see the school psychologist, an excellently trained, sympathetic woman, who told them that, despite her lonely feelings Carol was basically well-adjusted but depressed due to circumstances beyond anyone's control. She had no suggestions for dealing with Carol's isolation, for no one to this day has ever figured out a way for a girl to break into a clique that girls her age so often form.

One afternoon Jack waited for Carol to get home from school so they could go to the rink together, and he became concerned as it grew later and Carol didn't show up. He thought she must have taken the later bus, but she still should have been home by then. Their mother had stayed at the school preparing for the next day's classes, and she didn't know that Carol hadn't gotten home.

After another half hour Jack called his mother at the school to tell her that he didn't know where Carol was. School had ended forty-five minutes before, and Carol hadn't said anything about going to a friend's house afterwards; she never did, for she had no real friends. Janet told Jack to wait at the house, and after checking throughout the school she hurriedly walked, half-ran the route that her children took on the rare occasions when the weather permitted them to skip the bus and walk to school. There was no sign of Carol.

When she got home Janet called Mark, who immediately left his office. He, too, traced the route from the school, for the bus driver who took the kids home or to the rec center said he hadn't seen her. When he couldn't find Carol either he called the MP's and told them to look for his daughter. The daytime twilight had long since ended and the long Alaskan night had fallen with the temperature below zero, and Carol should have been home more than an hour ago. Jack felt and shared his parents' fear.

Chapter 5

While Janet and Mark called Carol's classmates Jack stood around, not knowing what he could do, but feeling that he had to do something. He told his parents he would check the rec center to see if Carol had gone swimming or skating, but she'd never done anything like that before without telling someone. She'd always told her parents where she was going, she never went out alone, and she was always on time to take the bus back. She'd never been out otherwise before real darkness had fallen. Something was dreadfully wrong, they all knew. Their helplessness was reflected on their faces.

Mark tried to reassure Janet that the entire base was mobilized to look for Carol, but thoughts of Mike, Jack's dead friend, ran through her mind. Like Mike, Carol was a very unhappy child. Could she have...no, Janet thought, there was no way Carol could have tried to hurt herself. She had loving parents and a loving brother. Her life was nothing like Mike's had been. Carol knew she was loved.

Janet again called the base recreation center and was told that no one had seen Carol that day. Nevertheless Jack ran there, covering the ground that Carol would have walked to get there from school, although he knew that in the frigid weather they always took the bus that circled the base. No sight of Carol. No indication that she'd been there.

Jack wracked his brain to think of where his little sister might be, where she might have gone. He thought of her obvious loneliness, and wondered what he might have done to ease it.

He walked slowly home, trying to think of somewhere else where Carol could have gone. He didn't feel the cold as he tried to remember places he and Carol had gone around the base where Carol had been happy, where she might go to ease the pain she felt.

He shivered as he approached his house, and he hoped Carol wasn't cold. He knew that the nighttime temperatures of Alaska could quickly bring on hypothermia and loss of consciousness. If Carol was outside too long she might die, even though Jack was sure that she'd never try to hurt herself. He was as frantic as his parents, and he felt just as helpless. The long, dark Alaska night made a search terribly hard. Yet they had to find her, fast. The alternative was too terrible to contemplate.

Jack wracked his brain to think of where Carol might have gone. He found himself on a path he had walked only twice before. Soon after winter had started he and Carol had gone again to the spot where their father had brought them to see the northern lights. They'd both stood there, mesmerized by the incredible sight. Jack tried to tell Carol what he'd been told about the cause of the aurora borealis, but Carol wanted none of it. "Shut up, Jack," she said good-naturedly. "Just let me look!" As it got colder Jack told her that it was time to go home, but Carol didn't want to. "Just a little longer, Jack, please?"

"Okay, Carrie," he said, using his nickname for her. "But then we gotta go. Mom'll be worried."

After a few more minutes Carol reluctantly walked down the hill with Jack and headed for home. When they got into the house they told their mother what they had seen. Jack, as usual, had done most of the talking. It seemed he couldn't contain himself when he was excited about something. He now remembered Carol not even trying to talk about it. She listened to Jack and nodded, apparently used to her older brother hogging the conversation when it was about something that interested him. She had occasionally complained to her parents that she never got a word in edge-wise when Jack was talking, but that was one complaint they hadn't really tried to deal with. That was Jack's nature, they told her, and Carol would have to learn to hold her own.

He thought of this as he plodded along, all of a sudden realizing how left out Carol felt, not only by her classmates, but by him. Like Mike did? he wondered. Is that what I did to Mike? Am I making Carrie feel lonely like that? Oh, God, he thought. No, not again. Not Carrie.

Jack walked faster as he headed to the hill where they had seen the lights. Please God, let her be there. Please. Let me find her.

It was even colder by that time, and Jack tugged his jacket more tightly around him. When he'd run out he hadn't bothered with a hat or gloves and he regretted it now, but he hadn't expected to be away this long. He'd been so sure she was at the rec center.

Jack wasn't even thinking that his parents would be worried about his own absence. Carrie was what mattered now. The thought that he'd helped drive her away was controlling him. He loved his sister dearly, but he'd been totally insensitive to her. She was his baby sister. She deserved better from him.

As Jack ran up the hill he saw nothing. The nob was as empty as when he'd brought Carrie there before. Dammit! he thought. He'd never felt such helplessness or fear like this since Mike died. No, I'm not going to think like that, he told himself. Carrie's all right. He wished he believed the reassurances he was giving himself.

Jack turned and stumbled over her, sitting in as tight a ball as she could, hugging her knees to herself to keep warm. "Thank God!" he cried out. "Carrie!"

She looked up at him and he saw that she was freezing. He pulled her to him and realized that her skin was awfully cold. She was paler than her blonde hair. He pulled his jacket off and wrapped it around her.

"I'm so cold, Jack," she whimpered. "I want to go home."

He knew he couldn't just leave her while he went for help. Although he was only twelve and not big for his age, he lifted Carol as he struggled to his feet and wrapped his jacket around her before he put her over his shoulder. He realized instinctively that that would be the best way to carry her, and that time was crucial. His jacket slipped off her, though, and he put her back down so he could zip her into it. Then he hoisted her again and headed for the base hospital as fast as he could.

It was a long distance, especially for one child to carry another. As he neared it, though, one of the MP's saw them and grabbed Carol from him and raced her inside. While she was taken into a cubicle in the emergency room the MP called Jack's parents, who immediately rushed there.

Jack had to wait in the waiting room while his parents went to Carol's bedside, and he remembered another time when he'd waited in a hospital for news of Carol. She made it then, he told himself, and she'll make it now.

A nurse came to him and wrapped him in a blanket. Jack hadn't realized until then how cold he was. The nurse applied warm compresses to his ears to try to deal with the frostbite he'd developed while he eagerly drank the hot chocolate that she'd brought him, enjoying how good it tasted as it and the blanket started to warm him. If only they can help Carrie, he thought. Then he started to cry.

He stayed at the hospital with his parents until his dad came to tell him that Carol would be all right. Finally the doctor said they could take Carol home. As Mark bundled a blanket around her when he lifted her into the car Carol looked at her big brother. "Thanks, Jack," she said, crying now. In the back seat next to her he hugged her to him.

Janet prepared hot chocolate for all of them and the four sat at the kitchen table, no one talking, just thankful to be together. After a few minutes Mark said, "Car, what happened, Honey? Why did you go out there alone?"

"I don't know, Daddy," she said quietly. "I wanted to see the lights."

"But why, Carol?" her mother asked. "You know you're not supposed to be out by yourself." Her voice was quiet, quizzical, not scolding. She knew her daughter was badly frightened, and this was not something she would be punished for. They had to find out what had caused it.

"I...Some of the girls said they'd be there. They asked me if I wanted to go with them. I wanted them to include me."

"Oh, Carol," her daddy said. "There was noone else there."

"I know, Daddy," she whispered. "No one came. I think they were just being mean." She sounded totally miserable, and she again started to sob.

Janet got up from the table and walked into the dining room before she started to cry.

Chapter 6

As he went to his room Jack remembered what his father had said, that he was a hero, that he ought to feel proud, but he still felt down. He hadn't realized, none of them had, just how unhappy Carol was. He was her big brother, and her confidant. They had gotten very close, but he hadn't picked up on how depressed she was, how isolated she felt, how desperate she was to be included by the other girls. He had thought he could read her mind, or at least her moods. He had let her down.

Chapter 7

A while later Mark came to Jack's room. "How'd you know where to look for her, Son? What made you go to the hill?"

"Carrie and I went there last month," Jack started. "We saw the northern lights. She loved them. I told her I'd take her back there to see them, but whenever she asked I told her I was busy. So I thought she just wanted to see them again. I'm sorry. I broke my promise to her. I'll never do that again." Jack, too, was crying.

Mark hugged his son and kissed his blonde head. "It's okay, Jack. It wasn't your fault. The girls tricked her. It had nothing to do with you."

Jack pulled away from him. "Son," Mark said as he pulled on Jack's shoulder and turned him towards him. "It's not your fault! Mom and I didn't realize how unhappy Carol is. We didn't know how left-out she feels. None of this is your fault. You saved her, Jack. Without you she would have died. Don't blame yourself. You didn't do anything wrong."

Mark again pulled his sobbing son to him. "Mom and I are going to take better care of Carol now. I'm going to request a transfer, to a bigger base where there are more kids her age. Your age, too. This family's been traveling around long enough. It's time we went home, to a real home. Where you kids won't have to move around every three years. It's a lousy life for kids. We're not going to continue like this."

Jack tried to pull out of his father's hug but Mark wouldn't let him. "Please trust me, Son. Nothing is more important to me than you kids and your mom. Family first. I've always put my career ahead of my family, and I'm not going to do that anymore. If it means I have to leave the army and go into civilian life that's what I'm going to do. You'll have a better life from now on, Son. I promise. Just remember that none of this was your fault. None."

Mark laid down next to his son when Jack got into his bed. He hugged his son and told him again that they'd soon leave Alaska and settle somewhere they could have a normal life. He said softly, "Tomorrow we'll talk about what we're going to do. As a family." Jack realized that it was something he'd always wanted. He just hadn't known it.

Chapter 8

His dream shifted to thoughts of his own wife and daughter, and as he awoke he realized with great regret that he'd never learned the lesson his father had in Alaska. Family first. His dad had given up his dream of ever being promoted to general by asking for that permanent transfer, but he'd shown his priorities to his family. They had spent the next six years at an army base in upstate New York, where Jack gratefully continued to play hockey, and where Carol had many more classmates who happily accepted her as a member of their circle of friends.

For the first time in her married life Janet decorated the base house as though it was really theirs. Jack and Carol selected new furniture for their rooms, while their parents chose their own. The house was painted colors they all really liked, Jack choosing blue for his, Carol pink. There was no surprise there, but the kids loved it. With a darker blue carpet and furniture he'd helped choose Jack put up posters of his favorite hockey players, and pictures his parents had taken of him on the ice in his Rangers jersey as well as family photos. He made friends he knew he'd be able to stay with for awhile, and his grades, which had always been superb, became even better. He would clearly have his choice of colleges.

Carol, meanwhile, was able to join her own circle of friends, but not an exclusive clique. That wasn't her nature, and besides, she still felt the hurt the girls in Alaska had caused her, and she could never inflict that on anyone else. But she reveled in her new-found contemporary companionship, and started to act more like a normal nine year old. She and her brother both flourished.

In all respects the Bauer family settled into a more normal life where Mark would serve out the end of his career. Jack and Carol enjoyed a sense of permanence for the first time in their lives, a place that really was home. Their experiences as peripatetic children had helped shape their personalities, and Jack had learned that he needed a place, a place of comfort and belonging, that he knew was his own, a feeling that carried through to his adult life. Unfortunately, however, as an adult he had not acknowledged early enough that his family had to come first, before his professional needs. They, Teri, Kim and he, had all suffered irreparably from that.


	8. Part VIII

Part VIII

Chapter 1

CTU's attempts to find Laura Gaines were fruitless, as was their ability to figure out why she had kidnapped Jack. Interviews had not turned up anything, either regarding Gaines herself or a clue to why she had engineered Jack's abduction. It all remained a mystery, and that left Jack feeling vulnerable. It also made him increasingly uncomfortable, because he couldn't protect himself against an unknown threat. He admitted ruefully to himself that he couldn't stop any threat, even if he knew all about it.

Jack realized that CTU couldn't assign agents to protect him forever. Tony didn't have the manpower, or the budget. The imminence of an attack seemed to have passed, and yet Jack knew he was still a target and, given his physical condition, tremendously at risk. Kim, too, and her family. But there was little, really nothing, he could do.

He filled his days with his family, doting on Little Jack, who looked like a clone of Jack as a baby. Kim found pictures of her dad in his infancy, and they all marveled at the resemblance. His light, almost platinum blonde hair together with his shining blue eyes and bright, eager smile looked exactly as his great-grandfather had at that age. Little Jack was as happy as her father had been as a baby, loved and loving, content and happy.

Jack had no memories of his infancy, of course, but from the pictures Kim found he knew he had had a wonderful start in life. His first recollections were of his life in Italy, but they were fuzzy. He remembered little of when Carol was born, although he still had the toy truck. He had long since realized that Carol's 'gift' to him had been purchased by his parents, but that only caused amusement and appreciation of their perceptiveness. It added to his feeling of having been loved.

Thoughts such as these helped him to mend, and as his recovery progressed the doctors let him gradually increase his activity level, but still he found that his body balked. He tried to do more each day, and he was discouraged when he couldn't even do all that he was permitted. In his younger days - that the term no longer applied to him was a concept that was still repugnant - he would have bounced back, would have fought any restriction, would have pushed himself to, even over the edge. But his lack of energy, and the continuing, constant pain, held him back. He was forced to acknowledge that the damage to his heart was permanent, and that another heart attack would be fatal. So with great reluctance he admitted to himself that his days of lifting weights and playing tennis were over. His thoughts of joining a hockey league would never be realized. Even mere walks were now a struggle. He was an invalid.

Little Jack and the rest of his family made him mentally put his gun off limits. A selfish act like that was inconceivable, even in his darkest moments. He would have to suck it up, again, and learn to live with the restrictions. He would take care of himself, though. His independence wasn't up for grabs.

As he returned to his books he found a comfort he hadn't realized was missing from his life. They had been his first love, the basis for his imagination and, to his current way of thinking, the foundation for his courage for all of the derring-do that was had been the core of his adult life.

The pattern he developed was modest – sleeping later, a leisurely, healthy breakfast, a slow walk to the corner to check for mail, another cup of decaf with the rest of his newspaper with CNN in the background, often followed by a nap. He still occasionally skipped lunch, for it seemed to only provoke another nap, but without it he found that he was often too tired to do his errands, so he tried to get them done after his second cup of coffee. He missed the caffeine, though; it had energized him, more easily let him get out of the house and into the car to go to the grocery, the cleaners, whatever other things he had to do. Without that he always seemed tired, but he was smart enough and realistic enough to acknowledge that an artificial stimulant only increased the demands on his heart that he couldn't afford, and underscored the genuine fatigue that plagued – that was the only word that seemed to fit – his body. So he geared his activity to his energy level, his greatly reduced energy level, forced himself to eat lunch to provide the nourishment he knew he needed, and permitted himself to nap when his his body told him to, inwardly cursing but acknowledging that he could never again do what he had always done without thinking: push himself to, beyond his limits, with the knowledge that his body wouldn't fail him, that it would permit him to bounce back from what seemed like limitless demands.

He reflected on all the times he'd been wounded, tortured, near death, and understood the toll they'd taken on him, something he'd previously ignored with impunity. These realities were accompanied by undeniable depression, but he resisted the medications the doctors prescribed for this, although he was well aware that many elderly people suffered from this disease for the same reason as Jack: they, too, faced physical limitations for perhaps the first time in their lives, and they also felt lonely. Most had lost their mates later in life than Jack had, but until then he'd filled the empty hours with action, mental as well as physical, and occasionally with a woman who'd temporarily filled his bed. He'd hoped for a more lasting relationship, but it had never happened. He'd driven Kate away, unable to fill her needs for a family and, truthfully, his inability - unwillingness? - to be there for her. She'd never been able to count on him just being there, and he still wondered if it had been excusable because of his job, or if he had run away from a commitment. It was something he didn't want to dwell on.

Realistically, none of the others his age faced the same great differences from their former, younger selves, for none of them had led such super-active, super-challenging lives, so the physicians, but not Jack, acknowledged the greater-than-normal depressive effect this had on him. They were increasingly frustrated by his refusal to take the pills they knew would increase the quality of his life, but this, too, was part of his innate character, and represented one of the few choices Jack still had when it came to his health. His fight against the medications was a sort of veto over his limitations, but it is in the nature of doctors to have their orders obeyed, and the knowledge that their patient refused to be helped was unfathomable, and, to them, inexcusable. He didn't stop to think that he was only making matters worse for himself. He just thought that he was holding on to one, last, vestige of independence.

So Jack formed a routine, frustrating to both his family and his physicians, but his stubbornness, at least, was unimpaired, and Jack would do it his way, to the extent that he could.

He re-decorated his house, again with Kim's help, and he had the walls repainted a soothing beige instead of their original blue. Blue was how he always felt, and the change felt right. She helped him select new furniture in earth tones, with warm colors that made his home feel softer, more comforting, more supportive. Jack found that his new tan recliner was even more comfortable than his old navy one, and the beiges and light browns and umbers of his den were more soothing than the blue had been. That some of the blues had matched his eyes wasn't something he noticed. He enjoyed his new decor; it felt right. He had needed a change, and starting with the decorations had been a help.

He still took pleasure in getting behind the wheel of his SUV, for that represented at least some independence, and the knowledge that if he wanted he could go beyond the local shopping mall was a comfort, although he realized that the likelihood that he would do it was minute, at best. Still, it was there, and he relied on it to maintain a small feeling of freedom. It was essential to keep him from plummeting into an abyss of despair that might be paralyzing, so clinging to it was essential to keeping him going to the extent that his increasingly frail body permitted.

Still, the fatigue was always there, along with the chest pains the doctors said were angina. They told him that this was caused by limited blood supply to the heart and was a natural and irremediable result of the damage he had suffered from the successive heart attacks, but it was still hard for him to accept. He acknowledge that another attack would be fatal, and he still very much wanted to live, so he gave in to the limitations, which only worsened his depression. This further frustrated his family and his doctors for that, at least, could be treated, could be helped. Jack's stubbornness in refusing this treatment was understandable to them, at least on one level, but that didn't lessen their desire to beat some sense into him.

Chapter 2

That morning Jack forced himself to go to the supermarket, for he was out of detergent as well as milk and juice, and he knew that he would go nuts if he didn't do something. Kim had tried to insist that he drop his clothes at the laundromat, that he didn't have to do all the bending to put things in the dryer, or have to iron the few things he had that cried out for it, but he resisted giving anything up that involved more than just sitting in a chair. He knew that Kim or Chase would gladly pick up any needed groceries for him, but he had to get out. This, at least, he could do for himself. So he walked slowly from his house to his SUV, feeling the chest pain as he climbed in, knowing that getting into a passenger car would be easier, but he stubbornly refused to give up one of the few things that seemed a link to CTU, to a time when he had been young, healthy, strong.

He drove to the grocery slower than he had driven as a younger man, knowing that he had always before cursed the old men who crept along, making it difficult for other people to get where they were going, even presenting a menace as others had to pull around them to pass. But since the 'accident' with the van Jack didn't trust his reflexes anymore, he knew that he couldn't make sudden maneuvers to control the wheel, so driving slowly was necessary. This just presented another cause for depression, but he ignored it. He told himself that others just drove too fast, that that was what he had done in his younger, hell-bent days, all the while refusing to admit that his new-found caution was the result of his physical limitations and the psychological changes they had brought. He chose instead to ascribe it to newly-found mature sensibility.

He found a parking spot and a shopping cart, and he leaned on it for support as he walked into the store. It was unusually quiet for a weekday morning, when mothers of school-age children usually shopped. It seemed deserted, in fact. His training kicked in and he drew his weapon, which he had again started to carry after the abduction. As he walked down the dairy aisle he saw in the mirrors strategically placed to prevent shop-lifting that a man was in the back, holding a gun on the store manager. Other shoppers and check-out workers were held in groups by two other armed men, appearing on the verge of panic as they lay on the floor with guns trained on them.

Jack drew his weapon and held it along his leg as he walked down the aisle of the market at a normal pace for an older man, leaning on the wagon, seeming not to notice anything unusual, stopping at the bread display at the end where he appeared to inspect the expiration date on the loaves while he surreptitiously checked the goings-on at the back of the store. When he had shielded himself behind the metal shelves he announced himself to the robbers.

"Police!" he called out. "Drop your weapons!"

The men turned as a group towards his voice, not knowing how many officers were in the store. With Jack positioned behind the display he was not visible in the mirrors, and the robbers – Jack assumed they were robbers – didn't know what they were facing.

From the other side of the store Jack heard another voice call, "Drop it! Police!" Jack was confused, but he hoped whoever it was really was law enforcement. Believing themselves surrounded, two of the men complied, but the one holding the manager refused to drop his weapon and instead grabbed the man as a hostage. Jack had to go after him. He didn't want to expose himself, for outside of the shelves there was no cover. But he couldn't stand by and do nothing, either. That wasn't the way he was made.

Chapter 3

Slowly he left his hiding place, crouching despite the pain in his chest, and silently came up behind the man. "Drop it!" he ordered, but in a soft voice that was all the more menacing. The perp felt the poke of Jack's gun in his back and slowly dropped his own weapon. Jack ordered him to stand with his comrades and raised his gun to the level of the chests of the three perps. Another man appeared from the other side, no gun visible, but he wielded a shovel which he held menacingly over his head. Jack realized this was no cop, but he was grateful for his assistance nevertheless. Jack backed far enough away to be able to shoot any of the robbers by only changing the angle of his gun, and the perps obeyed his order to drop their guns and lace their fingers behind their heads. The perps hadn't noticed in the mirror that the other 'cop' situated behind them was armed only with a shovel, and Jack moved in close enough to kick away their weapons.

Jack let himself relax until he saw the shovel-wielder walk towards the robbers. One realized that the man was no cop, as he also belatedly recognized that Jack was an old man, so he went for his gun. Jack moved towards him, telling him again to stop, but the perp kicked out with his leg and knocked Jack off his feet. As he fell he managed to fire and hit him in the arm. Damn shaky hands! he thought to himself as he landed. The guy should be dead!

The perp dove at Jack and landed on him, for Jack was too slow to move out of the way. Jack fired twice more, but he couldn't roll out of the way before the man's head landed on his chest. Everything started to go black as the perp collapsed on top of him, but Jack fought it as he held his gun on the other robbers and with great difficulty shoved the dead man off and struggled to his knees. Finally in the mirrors he saw the real police arriving. In response to their order Jack dropped his own weapon and identified himself as a government agent. He, too, placed his hands behind his head, knowing that only after the perps were taken into custody could his identity be verified.

When he was searched one of the cops found Jack's I.D. and confirmed for the others that Jack was, in fact, a good guy, and they helped him stand. But the pain in his chest only increased when he bent to retrieve his gun. He felt like his heart had exploded. One of the cops noticed the old man getting pale and sweaty, and he caught Jack as he collapsed. "I'll get an ambulance," the cop said, and as he watched Jack grow whiter still he helped Jack lie down while he bunched his own jacket to pillow Jack's head. Another officer grabbed a bottle of water from a display and gently raised Jack enough so he could drink, while another kneeled next to him checking his pulse. It was fast and erratic, and he willed the ambulance to arrive quickly.

The ambulance finally got there and the EMT's placed an oxygen mask over Jack's face as they positioned EKG leads on his chest. The police helped lift Jack onto the gurney and as the attendants continued to work one of the cops realized that he still held Jack's ID. He finally recognized the name. "Holy sht!" he exclaimed. "This guy's the CTU agent who was in the papers all the time. He's the one who saved the country from the nukes on the ships!" Although they had only heard of his most recent exploits they knew the old man was a hero, and they gave him the respect he deserved. As the heart monitors wailed the cops realized that the legend of Jack Bauer had just posted another chapter. They were afraid it was the last.

Chapter 4

The cop's statement penetrated his subconscious, and Jack's mind took him back to one of his last missions more than a decade before, right after he'd hung it up and begun the second phase of his CTU career, planning ops instead of leading them. He was in Kenosha, Wisconsin again, running the squads trying to locate the twelve nuclear bombs planted on different cargo ships in ports all over the country.

As director of field ops Jack had run the operation, and he positioned agents around the country in different major ports, but they didn't yet know how many bombs had been placed, or where; their intel hadn't yet narrowed that down. With the resources of the agency, even supplemented by the FBI and CIA, there was no way he could blanket every port in the country; he'd been forced to again play the odds and use his gut to deduce where the major threats lay. Perception and experience that allowed him to see things in the intel that others missed, together with what he admitted was luck while others ascribed it to nothing less than superhuman powers, had led him to Kenosha, where he believed the intel showed that the plotters had based themselves and were directing their teams from. The detonation orders would come from there, Jack insisted.

He'd met resistance, of course, from the heads of CTU and the FBI and CIA, for the Powers That Be in Washington refused to believe that a major threat like this could be centered in what was only a minor port on the Great Lakes. To their thinking, so many, busier ports were far more likely sites for the kingpins behind the plot. But his experience and reputation as 'the man who got the results' CTU constantly demanded had enabled him to call the shots and interpret the data as he saw it; The agencies finally went along and let him position his teams where he believed they belonged.

Because of the tepid support from Washington Jack himself led the raid that led to the capture of the men behind the threat, and torture – there was no other name for it – ordered by Jack forced them to give up the sites of the bombs. Coordinated raids, ordered by Jack at eleven ports, and the one in Kenosha headed by him, resulted in finding and disarming the bombs. Jack was gravely wounded in carrying out the operation but the mission was successful, and the legend of Jack Bauer, who had once again saved the country from unimaginable destruction, had grown even greater. But the physical injuries that Jack himself had sustained during that last raid had brought him to the edge of his incredible capacity to withstand, so his days in the field were over.

As the EMTs tried everything to regulate Jack's heartbeat his mind started to let go. Why go through more of this, his subconscious asked. The end would be the same; it was only a question of when, and the emptiness of his life overwhelmed him. Why fight back? For what? Kim, his grandchildren, would adjust, he knew; it would just be sooner rather than a little later. And it would only just be a little later, his mind told him, his heart was giving out, and after this episode he would just be more of an invalid. He would no longer be able to care for himself. That thought was enough to cause him to give up; his life was over. He felt himself let go. The legend of Jack Bauer, Superman, was complete.


	9. Part IX

Part IX

Chapter 1

Jack hadn't known a human body could be hooked up to so many tubes or machines. He'd spent enough time in ICU's lately to recognize the beeps the gadgets made, although there were new ones he'd never before heard. He felt relaxed, without pain, but he only opened his eyes when he heard the word "transplant."

"Well, Mr. Bauer. It's nice to meet you," the man leaning over him said. "You've been through quite a lot, but it seems you're going to be with us a lot longer. You've had a heart transplant, and everything's going very well. In a few weeks you'll be out of here, and from what I've heard we'll have to tie you down to get you to follow our instructions. I'm Dr. Levin, by the way. The cardiac surgeon. I'll be glad to answer your questions, but I told your daughter she could have a few minutes with you."

The doctor smiled as he saw the look on Jack's face. "Most people know they're going to have a transplant, so I know this is a surprise and it's something you'll have to get used to, but you're going to be fine."

As the doctor turned away Jack saw Kim walking towards him. "Dad," she said softly. "Oh, Dad."

Jack weakly raised his hand and tried to touch her face, but he couldn't quite manage it. Nevertheless he whispered, "I'm fine, Baby. I'm going to be fine." The surprise and relief in his voice were evident.

Kim leaned over and gently kissed his head, trying to avoid the tubes and wires.

"Dad, we were so frightened," she said. "We heard what you did at the market. You just can't let it go, can you?"

She saw the hurt look on his face and was sorry that her voice seemed so scolding. "Oh, Daddy, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that the way it sounded. You're wonderful. It's just that you're never good to yourself."

"I'll be good," he whispered, and he tried to smile but he was too weak. But Kim saw the crinkle around his eyes and knew what he meant.

"I'm sorry, but he has to rest," said Dr. Levin. "I'll be out to talk to you in a few minutes, but first I think your father has some questions."

Jack followed Kim with his eyes, glad that he would have more time with her. He remembered how he had felt in the store, and knew he hadn't meant it. He wanted to live.

Chapter 2

After a few days Jack was allowed to sit up, and after a few more he could walk to a chair. The doctors said they were very pleased with his progress, which they attributed to his otherwise surprisingly excellent physical condition as well as good, old-fashioned determination. When Jack told this to Kim, she laughed. "I think they mean stubbornness, but they're too polite to say it. But we know better, don't we, Dad?"

Jack smiled at her, enjoying the way he felt, experiencing no heart pain for the first time in years. His chest hurt like hell, of course, for they had had to crack his ribs to do the operation, but the angina was gone. After a few days he worked up the courage to ask the doctor whose heart he'd been given.

"It was a young man, on a motorcycle. There's a reason we doctors call them 'death-cycles'. Maybe some day they'll ban the damn things."

Jack thought with gratitude of the man's family, who had selflessly donated his heart. Without them, he knew, he'd be dead. "How old was he?" he asked. "Did he have a family?"

"He was twenty-three," the doctor replied. "He was unmarried, he didn't have any kids." Dr. Levin gave a small smile. "At least not any his family knew of." He paused. "His parents were very generous. They gave the gift of life."

Jack was silent as he thought of their sacrifice. The doctor said, "It's kind of ironic, isn't it? I mean, you saved so many lives. Oh, yeah, we know all about you," the doctor continued when he saw Jack's look. "You won't be chasing any more terrorists, Jack. But for once it was someone else who saved you."

Jack was helped back into bed and quickly fell asleep. The thought of chasing terrorists filled his mind.

Chapter 3

"Dammit!" he yelled at his classmates. "Wait up!"

He was down on the trail, face down, really, and he was humiliated. He was always in the lead on their morning run, always the first in the weight room, always the natural leader. This time, though, one of the men had pulled him down by grabbing his belt from behind, and Jack couldn't tell who it was, for looking from the ground up in the dust he could only see their boots.

He could hear them laughing as they continued down the trail, turning around to grin at him as they jogged in place while he tried to stand and wipe some of the dirt from his face. Catching up was impossible, he knew, for while he was the best he wasn't all that much better than the rest. He'd be damned if he'd turn back, though; while they hadn't even passed the half-way point he was going to finish the run anyway. That was before he stepped on his left foot.

Jack went down again, cursing more as he impatiently pulled off his boot, realizing as he did so that it was not the smartest thing he could have done. His ankle was already starting to swell, and he knew he couldn't finish the run. I can't even walk, he cursed angrily. Damn them!

I'll be damned if I'm just going to sit here, he thought, but he didn't know what else he could do. He couldn't even stand from all-fours, he couldn't put enough weight on his foot to accomplish that. He decided that until they missed him he would plot his revenge. After another half hour, during which he'd managed to crawl out of the Georgia sun under a tree, a Jeep pulled up. "Aw, poor little Bauer, didja hurt yourself? Do you need a band-aid?" Fox, the man on the bottom part of his bunkbed and his nemesis, crooned to him from the truck. "Does big bad Jacky-wacky want his mommy?"

Jack was gratified when the rock he threw got Fox on the shoulder. "Ow!" the man said involuntarily, for any show of weakness in the group only brought derision. "No rocks, Bauer! No weapons! You know the rules!"

"If you think that pebble's a weapon, Fox, you should quit the group!" Jack yelled at him. "You should anyway. You're a wuss. Now help me into the Jeep."

"Get yourself over here, Bauer," Fox said. "The Cap'n said I had to go get ya, but I'll be damned if I'm gonna carry you."

"Fox, you ashole, you're the one who pulled me down. You broke my ankle, you fcking moron. I can't hop up the damn hill. So get you're as over here and give me a hand!"

Fox mumbled to himself as he got out of the Jeep, the only words audible to Jack being "fcker," and "bstard."

"Same to you, Fox," Jack said as he half-climbed, was half-tossed-in by Fox. "So's your mother."

The men traded insults as Fox drove Jack to the hospital. One of the orderlies roughly hauled him out of the Jeep and none-too-gently dropped him in a wheelchair. "Oh, girl, how'd you get hurt?" he asked snidely. There was no sympathy at this training base. Any man who needed it, secretly wanted it, even, was in the wrong place. It might as well have been called Camp Testosterone. Only the macho need apply.

The x-ray showed a fracture, and Jack was not happy as the doctor applied a cast. "You're out of it for six weeks, Bauer," he said, and Jack cursed some more. "That fcker!" he said. "That bstard knocked me out of training. I'll have to start all over!"

"Yeah, well, that's the way life goes," the doctor said, "suck it up." Jack wondered what medical school he'd attended. He must have missed the class on bedside manner.

Jack continued to attend the classroom instruction with the rest of his team, but that didn't change things. He couldn't do the weapons training, the physical conditioning, the scuba diving, the staged stealth operations. He couldn't do a damned thing, so far as he was concerned. The whole God-damned thing was a waste. He was a wash-out.

He aced all the classroom work, of course, and his instructors knew he was worth another go-round, but Jack's frustration just grew. He'd left the 'regular' army to join the Special Forces, which he'd thought would be a piece of cake after basic training, but he was surprised to see that it was anything but. Some of the physical things were the same, sure, but the tactics, the planning, were totally different, even the more grueling physical training. He needed to develop a different mind-set, and he wondered if it would have been easier if he hadn't been in the regular army first, but you didn't get picked for Special Forces that way. Some of the others were almost at his level. But not better, he reassured himself. Not better.

He was at the 'graduation' party his classmates had in the local bar, where the macho theme still prevailed. The men seemed to equate ability to hold alcohol with prowess, which Jack thought was bullsht, especially when it came to mental ability. He was surprised that these men, who had been specially selected for covert training, had such Neanderthal beliefs. Still, Jack acknowledged that they had to have sufficient skills to have been selected, as he was. And they had managed to finish the training. He hadn't.

He was dejected when his class graduated and he had to join the succeeding group, but he had no choice. He believed in the work they would do, and he was determined to finish the training.

Chapter 4

He had three weeks of physical therapy after the cast was finally removed and the doctors pronounced him fit to resume the course. Once again he became the leader, not just in the classroom but in the physical challenges presented, and he was quickly identified by the commanding officers as a man who would be one of their best. Jack was marked for special things after his 'class' graduated, and he was pleased that he had succeeded to such a degree that a lot was expected of him. If only he had known.

His marksmanship was unmatched, as were his tactical abilities and leadership. He was thrilled when he was immediately assigned to missions, while most of his fellow trainees were initially sent to for further training that Jack had been able to bypass, their senior officers believing that they needed further seasoning before they were sent into the field.

His first mission had gone as smoothly as possible at first, a stealth insertion into Afghanistan to rescue a downed pilot. It was Jack's first nighttime jump other than the ones he'd had in training, but he had faced it matter-of-factly, as part of the job, and he'd felt no fear as he jumped from the plane into the darkness. He landed smoothly, as smoothly as the men in the squad who had more experience, and he hurriedly buried his 'chute, as he'd been taught. The captain in charge of the mission divided them, as Jack expected from the pre-mission briefing. Jack's group headed towards a mountain where the pilot's beacon had come from, while the other group watched their backs, ready to head off any rebels who'd spotted their landing.

While the U.S. was officially supporting the Afghanis against the Russians, the Afghanis didn't appreciate the help they were receiving, so they didn't always support the Americans. They considered them almost as bad as the invaders from the U.S.S.R., and took every opportunity to kill as many Americans as they could. That was why the pilot of the reconaissance plane was in danger, and why Jack's squad had been sent to rescue him.

The mission wasn't without risk, of course, and Jack's group came under fire from men hidden further up the mountain. They fell into their directed positions, Jack armed with a rifle, for his marksmanship was unmatched by others in the group, and others manned mortar launchers. Jack and the other rifleman took out the rebels and his squad quickly located the pilot, who had suffered a broken leg and fractured ribs when he landed hard after bailing out of his plane, which had been shot down by a missile. The back-up group held off the rebels while Jack's squad carried the pilot out of the forest where he'd managed to hide himself, and they made it to the extraction point without casualties. The helicopter assigned to lift them out arrived just on time, and no one was hit when the rebels tried to prevent them from boarding. The gunners on the chopper finished off the men who fired to disable the 'copter as they lifted off and made it out of harm's way.

Jack received his first commendation for that mission, for bravery under fire, for his commanders had noticed how coolly and professionally he had handled himself as a rookie in the Special Forces. Because of his bravery he was soon assigned to further operations, and the decorations soon racked up. His promotion to first lieutenant from second followed.

That proved tough for him, for he was promoted ahead of other, more senior men in his squad, but even they realized that it was appropriate. He was singular, and they trusted him to lead them on future missions.

Jack's chief problem was Fox, who had been assigned to his squad as a second lieutenant, one rank under Jack. Fox chafed at this and gave Jack a hard time whenever he could, without actually stepping over the bounds to insubordination. Jack wrestled with Fox's attitude but he managed to keep his anger in check, knowing from his increasing maturity and experience that letting his temper get the best of him would not only jeopardize his career, but the safety of his men.

Jack was included in planning missions after his promotion, and his ability to see things that others missed, as well as his continued bravery and coolness in tough situations was further recognized, and he was given ever more challenging - and dangerous - assignments.

Most of his missions went smoothly, at least compared with what most Special Forces' were, until his first insertion into Kosovo. Initially it was what the men thought of as a 'piece of cake,' but the forces against them had been grossly underestimated by military intelligence, and Jack's squad was soon overrun. Jack was hit in the shoulder and thigh and he was losing a lot of blood, but he managed to drag one of his wounded men - Fox - to the chopper and save his life. The 'copter came under fire, and despite his wounds Jack manned a machine gun to hold off the attackers, enabling the chopper to take off. His commanding general came to the hospital to personally award Jack the Silver Star for conspicuous bravery. Had he not been in Special Forces he would have received the Medal of Honor, but Special Forces protected the identities of its men, and Medal of Honor recipients were always identified to the public.

Jack was slightly embarrassed by the medal, and protested that others in the squad had acted at least as bravely as he, but the generals wouldn't hear of it. They recognized Jack's extraordinary actions, and so too did the men under his command. But the incident marked the beginning of his tremendous mistrust of military intelligence, as well as civilian.

Fox wasn't appreciate of Jack saving him - his resentment seemed to grow. Jack didn't want thanks, but he couldn't fathom Fox's reaction. Jack knew he had been promoted ahead of him, still, they were professionals, members of the most elite unit the army had, and Fox wasn't acting like a professional. Jack was afraid to take him on another mission, but his concern proved irrelevant.

Jack's injuries were deemed by the officers in charge of Special Forces to be serious enough to make his continued participation in stealth operations inappropriate. Jack soon chafed at his desk assignment, and considered other options. When he was approached by CTU, he was ready for the change.

Teri had never been happy about Jack's transfer to Special Forces, in fact she had been scared to death when she had learned what Special Forces did; her fear was buttressed by Jack's injuries, so she was relieved when he decided to join CTU. She was under the belief that it would be far less dangerous, and Jack didn't try to disabuse her of the idea. It wasn't totally deliberate on his part, for although he hoped to have an active role there, he hadn't realized just how active it would be. In later years he occasionally wondered whether he would have gone to CTU had he known; after all, he had a wife and child to worry about, and he'd understood Teri's worry each time he'd gone on a mission for Special Forces. Nevertheless, the challenge those missions had presented had overcome his consideration for Teri's feelings, something which he later recognized was total selfishness and insensitivity.

After they discussed it (something he'd barely done with her before transferring to Special Forces), Teri had agreed that CTU was a good idea, and Jack put in his papers to resign from Special Forces, but he was told that he'd be in the reserves until he was fifty. At age twenty-six that seemed forever away; it was almost half of the life he'd already lived, although that had gone faster than he'd ever imagined. He was a husband and a father, and Kim was already six, but he couldn't imagine himself as a fifty year old; that seemed like another lifetime away. He had no choice but to agree, but he thought it unlikely he would ever be re-activated; there was no shortage of men eager to join the Special Forces.

When he signed the papers to join CTU he felt equally eager and relieved; Teri would be happy, and he was entering a new phase of his life that promised to be challenging and rewarding. CTU intended to assign Jack to planning and supervising operations, so his Special Forces injuries were deemed irrelevant. Jack knew this and accepted it, although the thought of sitting at a desk for the rest of his life wasn't something he liked. Nevertheless, he was sure that joining CTU was the right decision for the Bauer family.

Chapter 5

Jack's training as a new agent for CTU was abbreviated, for the Powers That Be deemed his Special Forces experience ample for the requirements of CTU. After introduction to the methods and protocols of the agency he began his new life.

Jack was assigned to the El Paso office of CTU in Texas, where the PTB believed that terrorists were attempting to cross the border from Mexico, although they had no knowledge that any plots were actually being planned there. The reasoning was that the 'bad guys' were concentrating on bringing their compatriots in through there, but Jack thought they wouldn't want to call attention to themselves by running their operations from there, too, which might red-flag their stealth immigration plans. So Jack worked to bring these activities to an end, while growing impatient at what he thought was work that immigration agents could as effectively deal with.

Apparently this belief was shared by others, supervisors who controlled assignments, and Jack was sent to Los Angeles, the second-largest city in the US, with the second-largest port in the country, one that was especially vulnerable to terrorists. He soon settled into the CTU office, where his abilities were further identified. He at first simply assisted in planning and supervising field ops, as he'd been told he would, and was not included in the actual missions themselves. Although he was the junior man in his department this didn't stop him from suggesting better ways to carry out a mission, something that was not appreciated by most of his commanders, who were way senior to this wet-behind-the-ears upstart. However, they couldn't deny that Jack's recommendations were valid, and despite the protests of many of his higher-ups, motivated partly by jealousy of this new kid on the block, he was eventually made the second-in-command for operations in his office.

Chapter 6

Richard Walsh was in charge of operations in the LA office, and he was one of the very few to quickly recognize Jack's abilities. Walsh was one of the only supervisors at CTU who did not let his ego interfere with his goals, and he valued Jack's growing expertise. This was never more evident than in Operation Pennant.

Walsh had named the mission for its timing, which coincided with the World Series. The operation was to prevent terrorists from interfering with the upcoming presidential election, and he knew that Jack's involvement would be invaluable. The CTU docs had thoroughly examined Jack, and they told Walsh that Jack could actually participate in field ops. Teri was upset, of course, but Jack was thrilled. The idea, the fact that he would get out from behind a desk was something he was eager to do.

Both presidential candidates had identified California as the most important state in their quest for victory, and both believed that the vote there would determine the outcome. Confirmed intelligence unequivocally showed that coordinated bombings were planned for urban polling places around the state, at the prime evening times when most voters would be at the polls, not only disrupting the voting and discouraging others from casting their votes, but destroying ballots that had already been cast. The result would throw the country into chaos, because by law elections could not be held after the designated date. Without California, neither candidate could win a majority in the electoral college, and the election would be thrown into the House of Representatives for decision, where the parties were evenly divided. Law prevented the incumbent from continuing in office after Inauguration Day, so the country would have no President. The outcome would be chaos.

Jack, together with Walsh, tracked the conspirators to locations in LA, by far California's most populous city, and planned coordinated raids to capture the plotters. The day before the election Jack and Walsh led teams in Los Angeles to get the leaders of the plot. The primary conspirators had hidden themselves on a Libyan ship in the port where they rigged explosives to use in their attacks on the polling places, and to keep anyone from sneaking on board. They also posted look-outs who could, from the position of the ship, see enough of the harbor to spot anyone approaching it.

Walsh broke up his men into groups, assigning men to raid the locations around LA where they had hidden themselves before planting the explosives, and had put Jack in command of a team that would actually board the ship. Walsh and his team would try to take down the look-outs who could alert the men on board. Jack's men had to disarm the explosives that the terrorists had not only rigged around the ship but which they were preparing to place at the polls.

Jack, of course, was the first man to board the ship, climbing up a web ladder after his men managed to attached it over the side by shooting anchoring hooks over the sides to catch the railing. As he crawled onto the deck he shot two men nearby with double-taps to each man's head. He motioned for the rest of his men to follow.

Walsh's team in the meantime had managed to eliminate the look-outs whose positions had been pinpointed by intel, supplemented by satellite. Because of this his part of the operation went off more quickly and smoothly than had been anticipated, and Walsh and his men headed for the ship to back up Jack and his agents. They were able to board using the gangway, thanks to Jack's team which had killed the terrorists on the deck, and Walsh went in search of Jack. He had headed for the engine room where he knew Jack would be because it was the farthest and best-protected place on the ship, and thus the easiest to defend. Jack was accompanied by five agents, while the others on his team searched the rest of the ship.

Jack's men were quickly pinned down by men hiding in the maze of the compartment, concealed behind the massive turbines and other machinery there. With his men unable to reach him Jack was alone, not knowing where the other conspirators were located. He was hit in the shoulder by a ricochet, and he fell back behind a tank. He knew that a misplaced shot would blow up the fuel stored there, as well as the explosives stored there for placement at the polling places, and he was helpless to proceed. Trying to reach the explosives would expose him to the fire of the plotters hidden there. He was pinned down, with no way out.

Suddenly shots came from another direction, precision shots which nailed the men hidden in the warren of equipment. Walsh had taken down the men who encircled Jack. Despite the pain and blood flowing from his wound Jack forced himself to grab the semi-machine gun he had dropped when he was hit, and he helped Walsh search the rest of the compartment and secure the explosives the terrorists had hidden.

When additional agents arrived and made sure the terrorists were all dead, Walsh went straight to Jack and pressed on his wound to staunch the bleeding while he called for medical assistance. The bullet had hit a major artery, and Jack was fast losing blood. Walsh kept Jack alive until EMT's arrived, who quickly brought Jack to the deck and into the waiting ambulance. The doctors who rushed Jack into surgery and removed the bullet gave Jack transfusions to replace the blood loss, and after several days in the Intensive Care Unit they told Teri that Jack would live. Her tears brought home to Jack just how lucky he had been, and how much he owed to Walsh. He had saved his life. It was something he would never forget, along with the terror he had caused his wife. But despite her fears his injury brought home to Jack how important his work was, for the election went off as planned, and the nation was spared the chaos that would otherwise have resulted.

Walsh came to see Jack in the ICU, but the heavy sedation Jack had been given prevented him from communicating with his best agent. Walsh returned to Jack's bedside after he was moved from the ICU to a step-down unit, and Jack expressed his fervent appreciation to the man who had saved his life. Walsh waved off his thanks, telling Jack that he was the hero, for he had taken out the terrorists and prevented them from carrying out their plot. Nevertheless, Jack knew that he owed Walsh his life, and although he hoped he would never have to return the favor, he resolved that if the need ever arose, he would be there for him, no matter the risk or cost to himself.

As the result of the success of the mission Walsh was promoted to head the LA office, and Jack took his place as head of ops. Jack and Walsh had developed great respect for each other, and this caused them to be so able to work together that their future operations went off more smoothly and effectively than usually happened. Along with this respect came a genuine friendship, one of the few Jack enjoyed.

Operation Pennant was a great success, and it helped contribute to agency recognition that Jack was a man who could be counted on. Jack Bauer's reputation as a man who got results was begun.

Chapter 7

Walsh's later promotion to Division had led to Jack's being made head of the LA office, but they continued to work closely together. Their respect for each other's abilities had deepened their personal friendship, and Jack never forgot his personal debt to Walsh. That was why the dream had seemed very real to Jack, and Walsh's death, which Jack had tried so hard to block from his memory, he still considered one of the greatest failures of his life. Knowing that he had been unable to save the man to whom he owed his own life was something for which he never had, and never would, be able to forgive himself. He was all too aware, from the introspection his memoirs had started, that such regrets accomplished nothing, and it brought home to him that he had to let go of such feelings. He knew that Walsh hadn't blamed him, had even told him that he wasn't beholden to him, and because of his sense of realism Jack knew that Walsh would never have faulted him. But Jack knew better: if he had not allowed Walsh to expose himself at the garage in order to pass the key card to him, Walsh would be alive. Jack had hidden himself out of the range of fire, while he had left Walsh in full view of the shooters. Walsh had deserved better; Jack had owed him far more, and he had betrayed his friend by not deflecting the danger. Jack was the one who should be dead; he should have somehow shielded Walsh and still gotten the card from him. That this couldn't have been done, wouldn't have worked, Jack couldn't accept. He believed, despite the logic of the situation, that he could have, should have found a way to rescue his own savior, while still securing the intel so vital to accomplishing the mission. Nothing, all the logic and arguments in the world, would convince him otherwise.

The depression from reliving his past that fell on Jack from what he was convinced were his failures didn't help his recuperation, but Jack's innate strength pulled him through. His mind couldn't accept failure, and rejected anything that might otherwise make him give up. His will to live was his greatest strength, in all senses of the world, and it had always stood him in good stead, as it would now. He recalled how he had given up earlier and was ashamed. If there was one single thing he owed Walsh, it was that he never surrender his life without a fight with everything he had.

Chapter 8

Jack awoke with Kim standing over him, pleased that he was so less pale, and most importantly that the oxygen tube had been removed. Jack was breathing without assistance for the first time since he thwarted the robbery. He still had a long recuperation ahead, which the doctors had explained to Jack as well as to Kim, and while neither looked forward to it, they had different reasons. Kim knew that Jack was a terrible patient, never directly disobeying doctors' orders, but always chomping at the bit to move to the next level of activity. Jack, of course, hated all kinds of limits, and the fact, which he knew, that he would have to take things even more slowly didn't make it any more palatable.

He was still in too much pain to resist being chair-bound; the cutting of his breastbone to permit the doctors access to his heart would take a long time to heal: there was no rushing it, and he acknowledged that he couldn't yet walk. The realism that Jack had always clung to made him accept this, but it was with the grateful understanding that it would only be temporary. He had been greatly encouraged when the doctors told him that he would eventually be able to resume a normal, active life, with far more physical activity than had been the case before the transplant. He accepted that he would always need medication to keep his body from rejecting the new heart, but with the wireless laptop Kim had brought him Jack had read everything he could find on the internet about the after-effects of heart transplants, and this further brightened his spirits. Previous organ recipients had been able to resume participation in sports, and Jack was encouraged to see that he might once again work out and play tennis. The doctor had mentioned golf to him as the perfect sport for someone in his condition: the activity of long walks at a leisurely pace, with the occasional stroke thrown in from time to time, was perfect for his recuperation.

Jack had attempted golf a few times before, but because he was such a perfectionist at everything he found golf very frustrating. He knew that even pros had off days when they seemed almost unable to hit the ball, but Jack couldn't kid himself; he didn't have enough good days to consider one off. He agreed to give it another try, though, and found that he had friends, men he had played tennis with, who loved golf. Three or four hours on the course followed by a beer at the '19th' hole wouldn't be such a bad idea. Maybe some of the men had even developed and interest in politics. And it certainly would be an opportunity to make new friends.

As Jack gratefully got back into bed he lay against the pillows still somewhat discouraged. He didn't think just getting out of a chair could be so enervating. But he stopped himself from having negative thoughts. I'm alive, he said to himself. I barely made it, but I'm alive. It may take a few months to get back, but at least I'm here. I have Kim and the kids and now little Jack, and I'll be around to see him grow. He felt the tears in his eyes. I'm very, very lucky, he reminded himself. I made it. Again.


	10. Part X

Part X

Chapter 1

His brisk walks had progressed to slow runs, more like trots really, he thought of them, but he was closer to his old pace than he'd ever thought he'd get. He'd resumed his laps in the pool and although he had not yet been cleared for weight lifting or tennis he was content with that exercise, at least for the short-term. He knew he had been granted the gift of life and he would be forever grateful.

The differences in his condition were recognizable to all. There was not only a spring in his step but a look on his face that showed his new-found optimism as well as his vastly-improved physical condition. The reduced limitations imposed by his body gave him a whole new outlook not only on life itself but on his enjoyment of it, and he indeed took up golf as the doctor had advised, finding that he enjoyed it despite the frustration of frequently losing his ball in the rough. After first using a motorized cart he progressed to walking the course, using a caddy to carry his bag, although at first he still found the walk tiring. He was pleased to see that the other men his age also didn't carry their own clubs, and he didn't blame it on his physical condition; he was glad to attribute it to his age, which he now found less disturbing. He had recognized the only alternative to aging, and was glad he had been spared it. He was ready, actually willing, to acknowledge that he was sixty-eight, and that attaining what he now thought of as 'old age' wasn't so bad, after all. A number of his acquaintances had already died, many of heart failure, and it contributed to his feeling of gratitude for what he was willing to call his new 'lease on life,' as corny as he found the saying.

He again reveled in his family, spending as much time as he could with 'little Jack,' more pleased than he'd thought at the name of the baby, recognizing it as the tribute to him that it was. He had such a close relationship with his own grandchildren that Melanie gladly, without prompting, had named her first-born after her grandfather. She and Lee had delayed the baby's Christening in the hope that his namesake could attend, and Jack was given the honor of holding the baby throughout the ceremony. He cried throughout, holding the great-grandchild he never thought he'd see, not embarrassed by his tears but thrilled to be there. He hoped that he could actively be a part of the baby's life, as he had been with Kim's own children, and for the first time he thought it could be a reality.

Chapter 2

He resumed his memoirs for the first time in ages, and as he sat before his computer he let his mind wander back to his college days, when he'd first met Teri. He'd been at a party, this one held at a sorority house that was much cleaner than the 'frat' house, and he'd wandered into the kitchen where the booze was set out to get a rum and Coke. The party was to celebrate first semester finals, and Jack, who'd just pledged his fraternity, was glad that for once he was treated as a full member, for the night not required to do most of the 'scut' work the pledges ordinarily had to do for the 'full' brothers.

The kegs were empty, and getting refills was the type of thing ordinarily assigned to the pledges, but one of the more sober brothers was convinced by the pledges, who were only 18 or 19, that they were too young to buy beer. Rather than go out themselves the brothers sent the younger boys out for ice, and the fraternity and sorority members switched to hard liquor. After the run for ice Jack and another pledge refilled the coolers, and Jack decided that he, too, could have a real drink. The "Greeks" didn't enforce the drinking age, even if they'd been sober enough to do so, and Jack took advantage of the opportunity to have hard liquor. But when he entered the kitchen he saw a girl refilling the trail mix that was the only snack that hadn't already been either devoured or spilled all over the floor. Jack wasn't so drunk that he didn't realize how beautiful she was. Tall and slender, her shoulder length hair accenting her cheekbones, Jack was immediately attracted to her. She was almost his height, and he instinctively knew that she was special, different from the other girls who were even drunker than he; she seemed to be the only one who hadn't over-indulged. She poured the crackers into bowls with a steady hand, a fact that penetrated Jack's semi-drunken haze, and she had an air of dignity as she did so. This realization sobered Jack, and he went nearer to her, determinedly walking steadily.

Careful not to slur his words, for he realized that this girl would be repulsed by drunkenness, he introduced himself to her, and carefully remembered her name. She was, in fact, pleased to see that he didn't appear drunk, although he definitely smelled of beer and rum. Nevertheless she too felt attracted to this blonde, athletic boy, not one with bulging muscles and 'six-pack abs,' the kind who seemed so prevalent on campus. He struck her as the type who spent more time in the library than the gym, someone who she somehow knew liked sports while still taking his studies seriously; not a 'jock.' She didn't know how she knew this, they'd exchanged only enough words to introduce themselves, but he was still someone she thought she'd like to know better.

After filling the snack bowls she took brownies from the oven, careful not to burn herself, for she too had had a few beers, but not enough to affect her faculties. She'd found that sugar helped prevent, or at least lessen the severity of hang-overs, and brownies were perfect for that. The smell helped Jack to sober up, for it revived memories of days when liquor had been unthinkable to him, when he'd been in his mother's kitchen and waited impatiently until the brownies were cool enough to cut. He gladly accepted a brownie from Teri when she cut them, still warm, and downed a glass of milk as he ate it. He immediately headed to the bathroom, barely making it in time before he threw up, for he was drunk enough to forget that milk and booze don't mix. He sheepishly returned to the kitchen, where Teri, amused, had waited for him.

Despite his alcohol consumption and nauseated feeling he managed to have a semi-lucid conversation with her and she gave him her telephone number, wondering right afterwards if she'd been foolish to act solely on instinct. She told herself she could always have her roommate run interference and tell him she was unavailable if she changed her mind about seeing him again. But somehow she didn't think she would.

A little later Jack said goodnight and headed back to his dorm, for pledges weren't allowed to live in the fraternity house, and he sprawled on his bed before vomiting into his garbage pail. He moaned as he lay down again, his mind not working well enough to yet think what a fool he'd made of himself to the spectacular girl he'd just met. After throwing up again, the muscles of his empty stomach protesting, he fell asleep.

The monster headache that awoke him the next morning made him unable to clearly recall his experiences of the previous night, and it wasn't until he found the barely-legible phone number in his jeans pocket that he realized that he'd actually met a beautiful girl at the party. A cold shower helped him awaken, and aspirin and tomato juice enabled him to stand straight. He marveled that he hadn't fallen on his head in the shower, and he was surprised that he was able to keep the aspirin and juice down. Another shower, where this time he remembered to use soap and shampoo, further cleared his head, and he then laid it on his desk as he tried to recall what he'd said to the girl. Teri, that was her name. Teri. He liked the sound of it.

He knew he wasn't yet in any shape to call her, for he didn't know what sound his voice would make, recalling with shame and pain how he'd been sick to his stomach, and not only did he think his speech might be slurred, but that his strained vocal chords might make him squeak. He took more aspirin, forgetting that he'd already taken as much as recommended, and again collapsed on his bed.

Hours later he awoke and was pleased that his head had cleared a little. The embarrassment that he felt was matched by the thought that he had ruined any chances he had with Teri. He realized that there was an atrocious smell in his room which he tracked down to his trash pail, and he threw it down the dorm incinerator. It was beyond redemption, so he wouldn't even try to clean it. Replacing it was the only option if he ever wanted to make his room livable.

His roommate had gone home for the weekend, so Jack threw the windows open before he went to the college convenience store and bought disinfectant cleaner that promised a fresh, clean scent. He remembered to buy a new trash pail and sponges and returned to his room to find that he hadn't entirely made it to his old pail and stripped the sheets and pillowcase and threw them into the washer, adding twice the recommended amount of bleach along with detergent.

He set to cleaning the room, and before long the smell of the cleanser overwhelmed him. He hadn't thought it possible but he vomited again, ruining another trash pail, thinking thankfully that he hadn't missed this time, until he realized with chagrin that his jeans were now coated. His pants, and the new pail, also went into the incinerator chute, and Jack found himself standing in the hallway of the coed dorm, dressed only in his 'tighty whities,' prompting giggles from the girls who passed by. He hurried back to his room, bright red, and pulled on the only other jeans he owned, along with a t-shirt. Shoes, sneakers, didn't occur to him, and he fell onto his bare mattress and passed out again.

Two hours of sleep seemed to be all he needed, and he knew as he got up that his hangover had passed. He remembered that he had to move his bedding from the washer to the dryer, and when he got to the laundry room he was gratified to see that his wash hadn't been thrown onto the floor as was so often the case when clothes weren't removed promptly enough by whoever wanted to use the machine next. As he stuffed quarters into the dryer he was chagrined to find as he transferred his sheets that his overuse of bleach had eaten holes in them. They're usable enough, he rationalized to himself. Maybe when I finish work I'll buy new ones.

The thought made him realize that he was five hours late for his job at the library, and he was afraid that it was enough to cost him his job. He hurried back to his room to finish dressing, thoughts of damaged wash instantly out of his mind, and ran to the library. He was relieved to see that his friend John, who worked the shift before him, had kindly stayed on, knowing from experience that fraternity parties were enough to make anyone absent the next day.

When Jack finally appeared John teased him about his pallor, which was a combination of pale and bright red, the whiteness attributable to his partying the night before, and the flush from his run to the library. As Jack clocked in he fervently thanked John, promising to return the favor whenever John wanted to skip a shift, six shifts if he wanted, and Jack went to work. He managed to focus enough to finish his job, although he found himself distracted by thoughts of Teri as he tried to shelve books.

Chapter 3

Back in his dorm after work, Jack decided he was finally in a condition to call the spectacular girl he had met the night before. As he dialed the number he found crumpled on the floor he hoped she'd forgotten his drunkenness, and when she answered he was thrilled to hear that she sounded pleased by his call.

"Hi, Teri," he said when she answered. "It's Jack Bauer. We met last night."

"Hi, Jack," she said, her voice sounding amused. "I remember. But I'm surprised you do."

"I want to apologize for that. I had too much to drink."

"I think I know that," she said, still bemused. "How are you feeling today?"

"Fine. I had a tough morning," he said, surprised at his admission, "but I finished my shift, and I was wondering if we could get together later."

"What shift?" she asked, ducking his question.

"I work at the library," he said, hoping she'd appreciate that at least he sounded studious. "I supervise the other guys who work there." He also hoped that she would be impressed with the responsibility of his job. He was desperate to impress her; he hoped it would help make up for his juvenile behavior the night before.

"I'm surprised you were able to make it to work," she said, for some reason wanting to twist the knife she instinctively knew he had mentally stabbed himself with. "You seemed pretty out of it last night."

"Yeah, I had a tough time of it," he said, further surprised that he was admitting this. "I never did anything like that before," he offered, "and I'll never do it again." He felt like a child apologizing to his mother, feeling somehow that he needed her forgiveness.

"Oh, you don't have to explain yourself to me, Jack," she said, laughing. "I'm not your mother."

No, he realized, but he was tempted to ask her to be his girlfriend, and he managed to choke back the words just in time. "So, are you free tonight?" he was able to say instead. "Would you like to go to a movie?"

"Yes," she said, to his enormous delight. "What do you want to see?"

"I haven't gone in awhile, so I haven't seen much that's out there."

"How about 'Terms of Endearment'? I heard that it's really good. And I love Jack Nicholson."

"That sounds good. I'll check what time it starts, and call you back. Maybe we can get a pizza or something before."

"If you're up to it, sure," she said, for some reason still annoyed that he had gotten so drunk the night before. What reason do I have to do that? she asked herself. I have no claim on him. We just met. He can do whatever he wants. Why am I saying these things? She was as confused as he sounded.

"Call me back then. I'll be here for awhile. I'm studying for an exam on Monday." She wondered why she was now explaining herself to him. She'd never felt the need to do that with any other boy.

"Okay, I'll check and call you back. Talk to you later. 'Bye."

"'Bye, Jack."

He somehow felt disappointed as he hung up. He wanted to keep talking to her. He brightened at the thought that he would soon be spending time with her.

Chapter 4

He picked her up at her dorm promptly at 7, hoping that it wasn't too noticeable that he was wearing new jeans, a new shirt and new loafers. When he'd checked his closet he thought that his regular everyday clothes looked too grungy for his date, and his shoes had been ruined the night before. He'd rushed to the nearest mall before running back to his dorm to shower yet again and shave. Making a good appearance was very important to him that night, partly to make up for the night before, and partly because he knew that this classy girl would be aware of how he presented himself.

He knocked on her dorm door and she opened it promptly, dressed similarly to him, but wearing a sweater he realized was expensive. Her room was neat, he saw, and it matched his opinion of her as someone who took pride in her surroundings as well as her appearance. She introduced him to her roommate, Gail, who was dressed in a robe but wearing make-up, obviously preparing for her own date. They left right after, going straight to the movie, leaving them no time for pizza, but Jack hoped they could get something to eat afterwards.

He'd hurriedly cleaned his car, grabbing the crumpled papers and Burger King wrappers that had littered the floor, evidence of the sloppy life he usually led. He'd been chagrined to find ants in the soda cup under the seat, and he bought one of those air freshener trees to hang from the mirror to kill the smell of the stuff he used to get rid of the bugs. He hoped it was enough. He didn't want the car to smell of Raid.

As they got to the car he opened the door for Teri, doing it matter-of-factly, not with a flourish, and he closed it the same way. He had been brought up with excellent manners, and while he sensed that Teri was an independent girl he knew that it was appropriate to treat her with respect, and opening the door for her seemed fitting.

"We shouldn't have trouble getting tickets," he said, not knowing what else to say but desperate to start a conversation. "And there's plenty of parking near the theatre."

"I think so," she allowed, also at a loss at what to talk about. "I've been looking forward to seeing this."

"You said you love Jack Nicholson," he said. "What other pictures of his have you seen?"

"'Chinatown,' of course," she replied. And 'Five Easy Pieces.' I think he's a terrific actor."

"Yeah," he said, still not knowing what to say, and kicking himself for it.

"What's your major?" he asked, thinking this was a natural topic. "I'm majoring in English Lit."

"Graphic arts," she said.

"Oh," he said. "I have absolutely no artistic talent." Why did I say that? he asked himself. I don't want to sound dismissive, like I'm not interested in what she obviously likes.

"Some people don't," she allowed. "But I've always loved it."

"I'm taking art history next semester," he said, hoping to redeem himself. "I'm really ignorant about that stuff, and I think it'll be interesting."

"I love it," she responded. "It's so rich, and it really reflects the development of our culture. I'm taking it now, and I'm going to take all the classes they have in it."

Jack had actually intended to take the course only to satisfy some of his 'distribution' credits, the classes all students are required to take in different areas so they don't just specialize in their own majors, but he knew he couldn't tell Teri that. She guessed it, of course, for Jack certainly didn't seem like the artsy type, but she reminded herself that literature was a form of art, and she didn't want to be judgmental. People had different interests, and she wouldn't put Jack down because of it. Besides, English Lit showed sensitivity, and she sensed that he was a sensitive boy.

"Who's your favorite author?" she asked, wanting to switch the subject back to Jack. She wasn't comfortable talking about herself yet, and she was genuinely curious. She, too, loved literature, but art was her favorite.

"James Joyce," he replied. "I re-read his stuff all the time." That was really intelligent, he thought as soon as he said it. 'Stuff,' that sounds just like a lit major. I sound like a jerk.

"I like Jane Austen," Teri volunteered, realizing instantly that because Austen was not considered one of the major authors it certainly didn't make her sound like she was well-schooled in literature. But it was the first name that occurred to her. "I like the Brontes, too," she said, hoping to redeem herself.

"Wuthering Heights is a great book," Jack replied.

"Charlotte Bronte is very good," she responded. "Oh," she said, blushing. "That was Jane Bronte, wasn't it? Charlotte wrote 'Jane Eyre,' didn't she?" Jack sensed Teri's discomfort, and he certainly didn't want to embarrass her.

"Yeah, Charlotte wrote 'Jane,' and Emily wrote 'Wuthering.' It's kind of confusing," he said, hoping she wouldn't think he was being condescending. There was a silence in the car, and Jack wanted to kick himself. What difference did it make who wrote what? Why did I have to correct her? Why couldn't I have left it alone?

"The line is pretty long," Jack said as they approached the theater, glad to change the subject. "Why don't I let you out here while I park, and you can get the tickets?"

"Okay," she said, opening the door and getting out before Jack remembered that he should have opened the door for her. As she walked towards the box office he realized that he hadn't given her money for the tickets. Jesus, he thought. Could I be stupider?

He was glad when he found a parking spot and saw Teri standing next to the ticket-taker as he hurried into the lobby. "I didn't have time to give you money for the tickets," he offered lamely as he took out his wallet. "How much were they?"

"Don't worry about it," she responded. "You can pay for the popcorn."

"I really want to pay for the tickets," he said. "Please let me."

She looked amused as she said, "Eight dollars. But Jack, it really isn't necessary."

"I still want to, Teri. Please."

"Okay, Jack," she said, seeing that it was important to him. She took the money from him and they headed for the concession stand.

"Do you like butter on your popcorn?" he asked, surprised at how relieved he felt, but kicking himself for presuming that was what she wanted. Maybe she wanted candy instead. She'd said he could pay for the popcorn. But did she really want that? Gamely he continued, "And what kind of soda do you want?"

"Actually, I like extra butter. And a Coke, please."

Jack paid for the food and as he guided her into the theatre his hand automatically went to the center of her back. They found two seats on the aisle and settled in, each holding their soda with the popcorn between them. When they reached into the bag at the same time their hands touched, and Jack hoped that she felt the same sensation as he. Teri showed no reaction, but the brush of their hands together felt good to her.

They settled back into their seats, and after three previews they quickly became engrossed in the movie. Jack hadn't seen many Nicholson films before, but he soon understood why Teri liked them.

When it ended they both knew they'd have something to talk about, but they were sated on popcorn, so instead of pizza they decided on ice cream. They walked to the store, and as they stood on the line they discussed the movie, falling into an easy conversation. The film had broken the ice between them and they felt comfortable with each other. The earlier tension of the evening was gone. It had become fun.

Chapter 5

Jack was less hesitant the next time he called Teri, and not quite as shocked when she agreed to see him again. They went to a movie the next week-end, a comedy they had both heard good things about, and Jack again bought the tickets and the popcorn. Jack had again taken care when he shaved and dressed, wearing the same jeans that he carefully pressed with the iron he removed from its box for the first time since he'd started school, and a sweater he chose because it wasn't wrinkled. He checked himself in the car mirror before he went into Teri's dorm, pleased to see that his hair hadn't done its usual magic trick and stuck up in the back no matter how carefully he combed it down.

He paused and swallowed before he knocked on Teri's door, preparing what he would say and making sure that his voice would stay steady. He'd thought about this night all week, and he wanted it to go right. This girl had become very important to him in a very short time, and he didn't want to blow it. When she opened the door he wasn't aware that he drew in his breath. She looked lovely. The beige sweater she wore set off the light tan of her skin, as did her simple gold earrings. Her form-fitting but not tight jeans accentuated her slender body, lithe, a dancer's body, tall and graceful.

After greeting each other shyly Teri indicated that she was ready and again Jack's hand went to the middle of her back, gently guiding her into the hall and towards the elevator. They walked side by side, not talking, out of the building to his car, where he once again opened and closed the door for her before he got in and drove to the theatre. Neither knew what to say, and they both felt awkward.

"There's plenty of parking tonight," Jack said, relieved both that there was finally something to say and that he could park. "There," he said, as he pulled into a spot.

He got out of the car and walked to Teri's side where he opened her door and offered his hand to help her out. As their hands touched she looked up at him and smiled. They both felt their awkwardness end as they laughed together. Suddenly they felt better.

"We don't have to rush tonight," Jack said, relief evident in his voice. "There's not much of a line. I'm kind of surprised. Didn't this movie just open?"

"Yes," Teri replied. "And it got good reviews."

"We'll have to see for ourselves," Jack said, liking the idea. They wouldn't have to fight any crowds. They could take their time.

They still walked side by side as they crossed the street, but they were more relaxed, more comfortable. After Jack bought the tickets and they got their popcorn and drinks they again sat on the aisle. Slowly the theatre filled up.

They laughed themselves silly at the movie. They thought 'Tootsie' was one of the funniest they'd ever seen. Their hands kept touching in the popcorn bag, and this time neither pulled away as though they'd been burned. In fact, each seemed to take more time as they dipped into the bag. Their fingers brushed together more and more. They told themselves it was just accidental.

Chapter 6

They spoke frequently after that, and met for coffee in the student union when their schedules permitted. Teri insisted on paying for herself and Jack didn't protest. It was an odd arrangement, for Jack paid for whatever they did on their dates, while Teri paid for her coffee and whatever food she had during the day. Somehow it was comfortable for them both, not strange, and the pattern felt natural.

They went out the following three Saturday nights, and had as good a time as two people could as they really got to know each other. They went to a movie each time, and by the fourth date Jack felt comfortable enough to take Teri's hand. Teri willingly gave it, wondering what had taken Jack so long. She smiled to herself, recognizing his shyness, and she found it endearing. Most of the boys she had dated before that had been much more forward, a few insisting that she somehow 'owed' them a physical response. She'd never seen them again; not only did she not feel attracted to them, but she resented their belief that she was somehow obligated to them.

Jack was different, and she knew that not only was he shy, but that he respected her, and it meant a lot. She'd never known anyone like him, and he intrigued her. He'd told her of his life as an army 'brat,' and while her life had been nothing like that she didn't think their different upbringings posed any obstacles to their burgeoning relationship.

Teri told Jack how her life had been so different from his, growing up in the same house where her parents had lived before she was born. She'd never been uprooted, and her parents, her father an engineer and her mother a physician, had made sure their schedules enabled them to spend as much time with their children as they could. She'd always felt loved and important to her parents, as Jack had, and her older and younger brothers had always been supportive of her. She hadn't grown up with the 'middle child' personality as did so many others in that situation, and she was comfortable with her life.

She laughed about her lack of ability in math so engineering wasn't in her future, and she wasn't drawn to medicine, although her older brother had just been accepted to medical school and her younger brother, still in high school, also wanted to be a doctor. No one in the family knew where her artistic skills came from, and overall her family supported her choice of career, although her father continuously questioned the practicality of it.

When his father retired from the service Jack's parents had returned to Los Angeles and bought a house in Pasadena. They had considered San Diego with its near-perfect weather, but that was a Navy town and Mark was the consummate Army man, so San Diego was unthinkable. Jack had always thought of LA as his home although he'd spent very little of his youth there, and UCLA had been his first choice when he applied to college. His father had not seemed disappointed when Jack chose not to follow him into the military, and Jack hadn't expected him to. He'd always understood that his parents would leave the choice of school and career to him. The only question they posed to him was what he planned to do after graduation, when the only possible use for a degree in literature seemed to be to teach, something that Jack adamantly said he didn't want to do. Nevertheless, they accepted his choice of major, and trusted that he would figure out his future with the sensibility he'd always shown.

Jack hadn't reached his decision lightly. He knew of the pride and honor that come from a life in the military, and his grades were certainly good enough to get him into West Point or any of the other service academies. His father would be proud of him no matter what his decision, of that Jack was certain, and that alone instilled a feeling of pride in him. Jack had always been fascinated by fighter planes, and he was eager to learn to fly. He seriously considered going to the Air Force Academy, but somehow he knew that that life wasn't for him. If anything, he'd follow his father into the army. But was that what he really wanted to do? He didn't think he wanted to commit himself to a life in the military, and West Point would certainly head him in that direction. Life was too busy, and almost too full of opportunities. High school was a big time in his life. A time of big events, and big choices. He was glad he'd chosen UCLA. Otherwise, he never would have met Teri.

Chapter 7

His senior year in high school had been busy with the social life of a popular, good-looking teenager, and although he was too small and slight for the football team and too short to play basketball he excelled at baseball, and that made him popular with his classmates, especially the girls. He had a number of girlfriends, none at the same time, for even then Jack was monogamous by nature. His first sexual experience had been in his junior year with a girl he'd dated for five months, and he thought he'd gone into orbit without a plane. As gentle and responsible as always Jack had learned that pleasing a girl was as important as being pleased himself, and he never forgot their nights in the dunes at Malibu. His parting from the girl had been her idea, and he wasn't insulted; he was relieved that he hadn't been put in the position of hurting her by being the one to break it off. They had remained friends through the rest of high school, and that meant a great deal to Jack: he'd obviously treated this girl who was so special to him well.

Jack hadn't slept with all of the girls who'd followed; he didn't have 'one-night stands,' for he recognized that sex was something special, and he wasn't about to cheapen it by treating it that way. He did have additional sexual partners, of course; the experience was too wonderful to forego, and he was much too attractive for other girls not to want him, so when he had a girlfriend with whom he'd developed an emotional attachment, albeit not a permanent one, he passionately made love to her. At every opportunity.

He fervently believed that 'a gentleman doesn't kiss and tell,' so he never talked about his experiences, for not only would that cheapen those wonderful times, but he wasn't about to subject a girl to gossip. He remembered the anguish he'd caused that girl in Alaska; even though they'd been much too young for it to have been about sex, he wasn't about to cause anyone pain.

As he sat at his computer his mind wandered back to that first girl, and that first time. Sandra. A lively brunette, great mind, greater sense of humor, greatest body. He had to admit to himself that it was the last that had first attracted him. His raging teenage hormones had made sure of that. She played field hockey for the varsity team, and he stopped to watch her when baseball practice was over. She ran faster than he'd have thought, for she wasn't particularly tall, but she covered the field well, and with enthusiasm. Jack's shyness kept him from going over to her, but a friend who was also on the team saw Jack looking at Sandra, and gladly introduced them, but with a little malice. "Hey, Sandra, this is Jack. He's the one who's been staring at you!"

Jack wanted to fall into the proverbial hole, but unfortunately none was available. His blush extended to his blonde scalp as he quietly said hello, but Sandra seemed just as embarrassed. "Sorry, Jack," she said to him, her self-consciousness impossible to miss, and more than matched by his own. "It's nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you, too," Jack said almost inaudibly. He had no idea what else to say.

"Do you like field hockey?" Sandra asked, wanting to relieve his obvious pain. "Do you play any sports?"

"Baseball," Jack said gratefully. "I'm on the team."

"I've seen some of the games," she continued. "What position do you play?"

"Shortstop," Jack said, beginning to feel like his life hadn't actually ended. "Do you like baseball?" What an idiot, he thought to himself. She just said she watches the games. Great comeback, Bauer. Just great.

"I watch it with my dad sometimes. I'm an only child, and sometimes I think he'd rather have a son. We've gone to a lot of Dodgers games. We sit behind third base." Why am I going on like this? she wondered to herself. All he did was ask if I like baseball. What an idiot I am.

Jack was pleased to have something to talk to her about, because his friend had been right. He had been staring at Sandra. He'd desperately wanted to talk to her but he was too shy to have ever spoken without an introduction. Thanks, Alan, he thought, even if you did make me sound like an ashole.

"Want to get a soda?" he suddenly asked. He'd never been impetuous like this with a girl. But he didn't know what else to say, and he didn't want their conversation to end.

"Sure," she said. "But I have to shower and change."

Despite every effort he could make Jack felt himself blush again. The thought of her in the shower played in his mind. "I'll wait in the parking lot," he said. "I have a beige Chevy."

"I'll meet you there," Sandra said, all too aware of Jack's discomfort. "I won't be long."

As she turned towards the gym she giggled. Boys, she thought. They're so obvious.

Sandra didn't take longer than usual to get ready but to Jack it seemed like an eternity. He drove his car to the gym entrance and while he sat there he tried to think of things to say. He'd dated other girls, of course, but he'd never thought he was very good at it. He had always been glad that movies don't require conversation. They were the best dates, he felt, for you could always talk about them afterwards. After one bowling date he'd decided never to do it again. Other than 'good one!' there was very little to say but a lot of time to talk, and he knew it was a skill he didn't have and doubted he ever would. Girls made him incredibly self-conscious, and he envied the boys who always seemed to know how to talk to them. 'Them' was the way he thought, for girls were still foreign, alien even. So far as Jack was concerned girls might as well be from another planet, maybe a different solar system, but he liked them anyway, and he definitely wanted one in his life. But what the hell could he say to her?

Jack's little sister Carol was no help. She was thirteen, and boy-crazy, but she didn't have a clue what boys thought. Not that Jack could ask her. She'd tease him forever, and he wouldn't know how to respond.

Their ride to the soda shop was mostly quiet. Jack asked Sandra about the field hockey game, and he was embarrassed when she reminded him that it had only been a practice. She asked him what classes he was taking, and they were both surprised to learn they were in Spanish together, but hadn't noticed. God, I hope I didn't insult her, he thought, while she was thinking, God, I hope I didn't insult him. It never occurred to either of them that the other was equally shy and self-conscious.

Jack carefully walked around the car and opened the door for her, which she thought was silly but somehow something boys felt they had to do. He held the door of the shop open for her, too, but at least he didn't help her with her chair. She'd have burst out laughing, she knew, and that would have made things worse. He'd be scared off, and that certainly wasn't what she wanted. No, she thought, I'll let him do whatever he thinks he has to. Boys! she thought again. What's with them?

After they ordered ice cream sodas Jack began to relax a little. "We have a game tomorrow," he volunteered. "Against South."

"We have a game tomorrow, too," Sandra said. "I won't be able to watch yours."

"Oh," he said, feeling disappointed, but thinking he shouldn't show it. "Maybe next time. When's your next home game?"

"Tuesday," she said. "We play Parkside."

"We have practice, but then I'll go watch you. Your game, I mean." Oh, God, he thought. I did it again.

Chapter 8

When Jack called Teri for their fifth date he was upset when she said she was busy. He hadn't expected it. Somehow he thought they had developed an exclusive relationship, although they'd never discussed it. Had he been too forward? Should he not have held her hand in the movie the week before? He thought she'd had a good time; he couldn't believe that was the cause, but he couldn't think of any other reason why she turned him down. He tried to tell himself that she hadn't actually refused, but that was how he felt. She hadn't offered any explanation other than to say that she was busy that night; nevertheless, Jack assumed she had another date. He was hurt, and far more, disappointed. Had he thought of it he would have realized that what he was was jealous, but he couldn't get past his wounded feelings. His pride was injured, but even more he was afraid that she didn't want to be with him again, and he had an overwhelming need to see her.

He moped that night, turning down his fraternity brothers' usual Saturday invitation to go to the local bars for some beers, for he had reserved Saturdays for Teri. The fraternity boys had figured out a way to get drinks for their underage pledges at the bars, and because Jack hadn't gone with them he'd avoided that problem. While Jack was required to join them at the Friday night parties, he was always careful not to imbibe too much. He had no intention of ever repeating the drunkenness of the night of the party where he'd met Teri. Not only was he disgusted by his behavior, he was upset by the loss of control it had represented. That wasn't him, and his self-image had been badly damaged. Most of all, he instinctively knew that Teri wouldn't approve.

His self-pity got the best of him, though, and that night he wandered over to the bar, willingly accepting the beers the others got for him. He followed the first with a second, then a third, and he was working his way through a fourth when he saw Teri enter with some of her sorority sisters. Oh, Christ, he thought. Now I've blown it. She'll see me drunk again, and she'll never want to see me again.

Teri settled at a table on the other side of the room, her back to Jack. At first he thought she was deliberately ignoring him, but he finally realized that she just didn't know he was there, and he felt tremendous relief. He watched her down a couple of beers, and start to drink a third. Then she rose to go with the other girls to the bathroom, and Jack wondered again why girls only seemed to go in groups. He'd always thought it amusing and now he found it somehow reassuring that Teri was, in fact, at least somewhat like other girls. It made him feel less inadequate, a feeling he'd had ever since they'd met, because of her dignity and aura of self-possession.

On her way back she spotted Jack at his table and walked over. "Hi, Jack," she said, slightly tipsy but definitely not drunk. Jack had sobered up when he'd first seen her, and didn't feel as embarrassed as he'd feared. His apparent sobriety reassured him, and as he rose to greet her he was steady and his speech was clear. "Teri, I'd like you to meet my friends," and he introduced her to his fraternity brothers.

Then she introduced him to her friends, and explained that, as a pledge, she was required to go out drinking with her sorority sisters one Saturday a month, and had missed the last month because of her first date with Jack. He was bemused by her obvious need to explain, but even more felt tremendous relief that she wanted him to know that she hadn't turned him down for a date with someone else.

Teri's friends had been curious about the boy she was dating, for with her typical reserve she'd told them very little about him, so when they met Jack and his group they were pleased to finally meet her 'mystery man.' They then went back to their table, leaving Teri standing next to Jack. "I'm sorry about tonight," she said, still feeling the need to explain. "Can we go out next week?"

"Sure," he said, with a feeling of delight that overwhelmed him. "I'll call you tomorrow. Maybe we can have dinner."

"Great," she said. "But I'd better get back to the others. They really make us pledges obey the rules."

"Sure," he repeated. "It's the same in the fraternity."

Jack saw Teri turn red in response to something the girls said when she sat back down. He knew they were talking about him, but he wasn't embarrassed. Somehow he knew that the blush was because she liked him.

Chapter 9

Their relationship became exclusive after that, and they spent all the time they could together, except for the Saturday nights when Teri had to go drinking with the other sorority girls. Jack's pledge obligations were different; he had to go to the regular Friday fraternity parties, and he and Teri for some reason did not go out then. Jack resisted taking Teri to the parties, not wanting to expose her to the rowdy behavior that always occurred. The fraternity brothers insisted that he have at least five beers at each party, and he worked out a way to dump at least two of them, usually off the deck of the fraternity house, until he inadvertently poured one on a boy making out with his girlfriend below. As punishment he had to clean the toilets with a toothbrush, his own in fact, and he had to work a double shift at the library the next day, so for the whole day before he could get to the store to buy a replacement he was miserable, especially because he had a date with Teri that night, right after work. To get to the movie on time he wouldn't have time to stop at the drug store before he picked her up. He used up a whole bottle of mouthwash in the library bathroom, furious because he'd intended to kiss Teri that night, what would have been their first kiss, and instead he'd have to make sure he didn't get close to her. He couldn't explain that he hadn't been able to brush his teeth, he knew that would repulse her, but he couldn't bring himself to cancel their date.

He ordered triple butter on the popcorn that night, hoping that the smell of it would overcome his breath, and instead of sharing he deliberately consumed most of it. Teri couldn't figure out why Jack was acting so strangely, especially since she thought she'd come to know him pretty well, but she liked him enough to accept it. She contented herself with having his arm around her at the movie, although she, too, had hoped they would kiss that night. Finally. His shyness was getting to her, and she thought it was rather extreme. Enough, she thought. What is he waiting for? I can't possibly seem more willing. And I know he likes me.

Jack's thoughts weren't on the movie. As he ate more and more popcorn all the butter began to make him feel sick, and midway through the movie he had to excuse himself. When he finished throwing up he was even more disgusted. Great, he thought bitterly. Now I smell of vomit.

When he got back to his seat he started to whisper in her ear that he apparently had a stomach bug, but stopped himself in time when he realized that she would have to smell his atrocious breath. So looking straight ahead he said sotto voce that he wasn't feeling well, and together they left. He drove directly to her dorm, and after barely managing to get out of the car to open her door he got right back in and went back to his place. He spent a long part of the night worshiping the porcelain god.

Chapter 10

Thoughts of Teri somehow brought back memories of Sandra. They had spent an increasing amount of time in his Chevy, letting their natural inquisitiveness show, and the increasing conflicting feelings of relaxation and their need made them feel bolder with each encounter. Jack had learned from the other guys of a place where it was possible to park without interruption by the police, so that was where they headed. They were both too self-conscious to head immediately for the beach to watch the 'submarine races,' so they went to a movie or bowling (Jack had found that with someone he could talk to it wasn't a bad date) and had pizza or an ice cream soda before they let themselves do what they both really wanted. It was understood that they would end up at the beach.

Kissing quickly progressed to other things, and after their initial shyness that included the removal of clothing. Jack anguished over his feeling that he would lose control as they became bolder with each date. Sandra, too, was overcome with dissatisfaction as she learned of feelings she hadn't suspected her body could experience.

They soon reached the point where touching and kissing weren't enough. They knew where they were headed, but neither of them had been there before, and they were scared yet desperate. Neither could voice it, but with tacit agreement they made a date, and they knew there would be no movie or bowling that night.

Jack picked Sandra up at their usual time, 7 PM, and the night was overcast but warm. They would be comfortable in his car without clothing, and besides, the heat they generated together would steam the windows.

Jack gathered his nerve and went to the drugstore, where with embarrassment he bought what he knew was necessary. Unlike his friends, who carried a condom in their wallets 'just in case,' Jack had thought that was braggadocio and silly. He'd also thought it was insulting to Sandra. He'd never taken a girl for granted, and he hoped he never would. The situation with Sandra was completely different. He knew their need was mutual.

He took extra care when he shaved after his shower, and was gratified that he didn't accidentally slit his throat with the new blade. He wanted smooth skin for what he knew would be a closeness he'd never before experienced. His hair, for once, did what he wanted it to do, brushing flat and staying put.

He dressed carefully in newly pressed khakis and a tan dress shirt, much fancier than his usual worn jeans and a shirt that hung outside his pants. Brown socks and polished penny loafers completed his 'outfit.'

His parents noticed but did not comment on his more carefully-put-together look; they didn't dwell on Jack's sex life but presumed he had one, although they didn't realize the special significance of that evening. Jack said what he hoped was a normal "'bye" to them, and headed for his Chevy. As he started the engine he realized what he had failed to put in his pocket. He headed back into the house and retrieved the most essential item of the evening from its hiding place in his dresser and again went to his car. He was pleased to notice that his hands weren't shaking on the wheel.

His voice didn't tremble when he greeted Sandra's parents before she came down the stairs. She was always on time, something Jack appreciated, because it meant he didn't have to make conversation with her folks, and as she walked to him he noticed that she, too, was dressed more formally for the big event they anticipated, still in casual clothes but ones that were newer and told Jack that she felt the same as he. As they said good night to her parents they were both sure that her mom and dad knew what was happening, but they didn't have a clue, or if they did they weren't going to mention it. Sandra was still their little girl and always would be, and unlike Jack's parents they didn't want to think of her as sexually active. Jack was a boy, after all, and there was still very much a double standard.

As Jack opened the door of the Chevy for her Sandra gave Jack a quick kiss on the lips. He knew what it meant, but rather than relaxing him it only increased his feeling of anticipation and hence his case of nerves. As he walked around the car the realization that she wanted this as much as he provided a very welcome sense of relief. With that in mind he put the car in gear and headed for the beach.

As they drove Sandra put her hand between Jack's legs and he thought he would go mad. If she had stroked him he would have lost control of the car, but there was no way he would remove her hand. With his mind totally distracted it was a miracle that he made it to their usual parking place.

Their clothes came off immediately; there was no need for coyness, they'd been to this point many times before. They were both feverish with need, so doubts weren't an issue. Jack pulled out his purchase of earlier in the day, and after some fumbling with the wrapper which provoked a few 'dammits!' he was ready, and so was she.

This was new to them both, so there was more fumbling before he slid into her; the rhythm came quickly to them, and so did the pleasure. She gasped at the first moment, but that vanished with the sheer joy she, they, both felt. It was as wonderful as they'd anticipated, and they realized they had turned a point in their lives, not just in their relationship. Jack climaxed, the ecstasy of the moment both a feeling of foreverness and too quick. He knew that Sandra hadn't reached the heaven he felt, so he was careful to bring her there. She had to know the wonder he had, and he loved her so at that moment, and was so considerate, for lack of a better term, that he carefully and tenderly brought her to the same point of joy and ecstasy he had reached.

Their panting and tears matched each other's, and their embrace and kisses were different than before: they knew they would please each other like this whenever they could. They'd never give up this experience; they had felt pure bliss, and they'd never have this moment again. At that instant they loved each other, and the purity of that love was a forever feeling. No matter who they were with afterwards it would never be matched.

They held each other silently, wondering as children do why their parents had warned them against this, why this had been denied them, when it was so wonderful, so ecstatic. They enjoyed the sweetness of being in each other's arms, the tenderness of new lovers, feeling that they were the first to know the bliss of love, the satisfaction of hunger, the satiation of lust.

As both knew they would return to the beach whenever possible, and Jack was always aware of what he now carried in his pocket, but he knew it was because Sandra wanted it there, too; it wasn't unwarranted anticipation that was insulting to her, it was a realistic presence of their mutual need. And it was a need; Jack was no longer embarrassed by his increasingly frequent visits to the drug store.

They returned to 'their' parking spot as often as they could, but there was no pretense of watching 'submarine races;' their thoughts were of only one thing, and they rushed to begin. Their boldness grew, and so did their experimentation, which was limited only by the confines of the car. As the weather improved Jack's blanket was spread on the sand of the dunes, and their eagerness and curiosity enabled them to go beyond the limitations the Chevy had imposed. They reveled not only in their own pleasure but in the joy they gave each other. Both were selfless as well as needful, and they knew they had reached a place, and they were joyful that it was a place they both wanted, needed, to go.

They learned more about their own bodies as they learned about each other's. Jack learned not only what aroused Sandra, but what made him go wild. He grew bolder in directing her, telling her what he liked, what he wanted her to do to him, showing her what he so desperately needed. After her initial hesitation she did the same, until they both surprised themselves by becoming wanton, brazen in their experimentation, exhilarated beyond anything they had ever imagined. It made Jack a consummate lover.

They were never discovered, although that possibility had brought a sense of danger that had added to their thrill. The experience never became routine for either of them, for how could it? They were kids, expressing their love to and for each other, and that wonder would never end. It was marked on them forever, and it was wonderful.

As the summer ended, though, it brought with it the realization that they didn't feel true love; their feelings were more than mere lust, but not those of a permanent commitment. Sandra felt that it was time to move on, but she'd never forget Jack, or the feelings he'd engendered in her as well as the joy he'd introduced her to. But for her it was time to spread her wings, and she couldn't do that if she continued her relationship with him. With a great deal of tears she told this to him, and he cried with her although he understood her need and her ambivalence. He knew he had to let her go, for he recognized the wisdom of her decision; he, too, saw that their feelings were not the love that would make for a life together. As they made love one last time, not for 'auld lang syne' but as an expression of their appreciation of each other and the joy they had experienced together, they were both glad and upset. The turning point in their lives had moved even further around, and it was past the point of no return. Their relationship was over, even though their feelings for each other would never be.

Chapter 11

He wasn't altogether unhappy when the knock on the door interrupted his reverie. He'd been so lost in his past that it was time to come back, time to once again think about the life he was now living. So when he looked out the peephole he now used faithfully he was pleased to see Kim standing outside.

"Hi, Dad," she said happily. "I've come to take you to lunch."

"Hi, Sweetheart," he said, kissing her on the cheek as she walked in. "Did we have plans?"

"No, but I think it's time you became spontaneous. Not everything has to be planned, you know. Not everything has to be tactical. It's a gorgeous day, and I thought we could go to Santa Monica and eat outside. I bet you haven't done that in awhile."

"No, I haven't," he admitted, realizing that her suggestion sounded like just what he needed. It would give him a chance to shake his memories and return to the present. He'd spent more than enough time in the past that morning, and while the memories he'd re-visited were wonderful ones, he couldn't live in that period of his life anymore. He was living other, wonderful times now, and hiding inside meant wasting them.

"It's still chilly, Dad, take a sweater," Kim called after Jack as he went to his bedroom to change from his slippers to his shoes. Jack smiled ruefully to himself, wondering when Kim had become the parent and he the child. He saw the grey sweater in the front of his closet, the one that had come in the box, and without thinking he pulled it on. Then he went to join his daughter for lunch.

Chapter 12

He was in a good frame of mind for his appointment with his doctor. He gave him the pages he'd printed from the computer, the memories he'd resurrected, some so painfully, knowing that the doctor thought it was therapeutic, although he didn't see how. Nevertheless he'd kept at it, deriving some small comfort from his mental time with Teri and the other good things in his past, his sub-conscious giving positive meaning to his life that counterbalanced the terrible things he'd lived through, had done.

They talked, Jack telling of his recuperation, his gathering strength, his enjoyment of little Jack, his growing feeling of well-being. The doctor noticed that for the first time Jack seemed to be in a better, stronger frame of mind, more positive, more outgoing, more willing to be social, ready to meet other people, less withdrawn, less secretive. In a word, healthier. He told this to Jack, who was somewhat taken aback. He hadn't seen this in himself, and he turned it over in his mind. Healthy, emotionally. Something he'd never equated with himself, for in his introspection he'd come to think of himself only as damaged. Was it possible that he could function in the normal world, with normal people, and have a normal life? That was what he wanted now, in his retirement, when the pressures of CTU were past, and he was free of the constant need for secrecy and a furtive life, a solitary life, when revealing details of his life would put others at risk. Now he wanted it, but he never thought he'd have it. The doctor's assurance that this was coming to him was a revelation, an epiphany, and it was something Jack would have to digest. He couldn't accept it overnight, as much as he now found he desperately wanted it to be true.

Several things he liked about the doctor were that his office was private, not on the premises of CTU, and that he was never rushed, not tied to a clock, so the doctor never said 'well, our hour is up,' or anything like that, so the men continued to talk until Jack felt there was nothing more to say, and then he made his next appointment. He had heard from other people that most therapists were rigid, keeping close watch on their time, so when their allotted hour had passed the patients were ushered out. Because Jack's doctor didn't do this he felt that the man really listened to him, and that was one of the reasons he was able to relax. But the main reason was the man's security clearance from CTU. He was the only 'civilian' to whom Jack had ever been able to speak in confidence, who Jack knew could understand what he'd experienced, and who wouldn't talk about it. This gave Jack a comfort and a reassurance he'd never known, and had never expected to have. That was the real reason his therapy was proving so successful. It was the reason Jack was re-gaining his mental health.

Jack talked longer than he ever had, revealing details of missions he'd tried to bury, even from himself, and it was a catharsis. The proverbial weight was beginning to lift from his shoulders as he was able to tell of the horrors he had faced, and for the most part had successfully overcome, but usually at an unbelievable cost to himself. He had sublimated most of them, sucking it up, going on to the next mission, for there was always a next mission, making himself try to live a normal life with his family, whatever that was. He was torn apart by it more than he'd ever realized, and the toll on him had been enormous. That he and Teri had managed to stay together at all was miraculous. Their reconciliation following their separation was unbelievable, in the doctor's experience. It was further proof of Jack's super-human will to accomplish his every assignment, whether it was professional or personal. But that will eventually had to break. No one was that strong. No one.

The doctor also marveled at Teri's devotion to Jack. She must have loved him dearly, the doctor felt. He could imagine how difficult Jack must have been to live with, with the moods he must have experienced, for the secretiveness Jack was beginning to acknowledge must have been evident throughout their years together. Without Teri in Jack's life the doctor thought that he would have cracked much sooner. He couldn't understand how Teri's death, which the doctor knew brought such unbearable guilt to Jack, had enabled him to function at all. And yet Jack had, even continuing to be a devoted father to their daughter.

Finally Jack's mental exhaustion spilled over to physical fatigue, and the session ended. The doctor called Kim to pick Jack up, for he was too drained to drive. This hadn't happened before, but they'd never had a meeting like this before. The doctor told Jack he wanted to see him the next day, much sooner than they'd scheduled a follow-up appointment before, for he knew that the revelations Jack had made that day would weigh heavily on him. When Kim arrived Jack didn't protest when she helped him to the car. He was too tired to fight it. He was overwhelmed with exhaustion; his mind was on overload. He'd experienced too much that day. He took the sedative the doctor gave him before he left the office, and agreed to spend the night at Kim's. He was in no state to stay alone.

Chapter 13

Although Jack slept that night he was still exhausted when he awoke the next morning. When the phone rang he pulled the covers up and tried to go back to sleep, but Kim knocked on the door and told him it was the doctor calling, and she handed the portable phone to him.

"Jack, how are you this morning?" the doctor asked. "Did you sleep through the night?"

"Yeah," Jack mumbled. "I slept, but I'm still very tired."

"The sedative I gave you has worn off by now. You're tired because yesterday's session was so intense. That's why you have to get up now. You can't stay in bed today. You need to come into the office so we can work through this."

"I'm too tired," Jack replied. "Not today. Maybe tomorrow."

"No, Jack," the doctor insisted. "It has to be today. Get up and have some breakfast, but don't have regular coffee. Have decaf. I know you're tired, but I don't want you to have caffeine. It'll only make you jumpy. Then take a shower, and have Kim drive you here. We have to talk. It's important."

"Doc," Jack began, but the doctor cut him off.

"Jack, it's really important, or I wouldn't insist. Take the shower first if you want, it'll help you wake up, but you have to come to the office. You really have to. If you don't this is going to plague you, and it'll cause serious problems. Please, Jack. You're making such wonderful progress. Listen to me. I know what I'm doing. Do what I say now."

There was a pause, and then Jack reluctantly said, "Okay, Doc, I'll get up now. I'll be there in about an hour, hour and a half."

"That'll be fine," came the reply. "Let me talk to Kim now, please."

Jack handed the phone to his daughter, who had been standing there throughout the conversation, as he swung his legs out of bed and headed for the shower. She was distressed to see that her father seemed to be unsteady on his feet, and she told this to the doctor, who tried to reassure her.

"That's because of the exhaustion, Kim. He went through the wringer yesterday. That's why it's so important that I see him today. We have to work out what he said in yesterday's session. You know I can't tell you what we talked about, so you'll just have to trust me. But it's very, very important that he come in. So please fix him some breakfast with protein and carbohydrates and coffee, but it has to be decaf. Even if he asks for regular, make sure it's decaf. Then bring him in."

"All right, Doctor," she said, although she was still worried. "I'll drive him there as soon as he's ready."

While Jack showered Kim prepared three eggs and four slices of toast, and poured a large glass of orange juice while she brewed a pot of decaf coffee. Under the circumstances, it seemed more important than the usual heart-healthy diet she usually imposed on him.

When he walked into the kitchen, his hair still wet, he seemed somewhat more alert, although still clearly tired.

"Thanks, Baby," he said, sitting down at the table. "I'm sorry you have to go to all this trouble."

"It's no trouble, Dad," she said. "The doctor explained that it's very important that you see him today, so we'll leave as soon as you finish eating. Okay?"

"Yeah, Sweetheart," he mumbled, his mouth full of toast. He hadn't realized he was hungry.

Chapter 14

The session with the doctor was the ordeal Jack anticipated during the ride over with Kim. Once again they discussed the painful subjects of the day before, but this time, instead of letting Jack talk in a narrative the doctor interjected comments, guiding the conversation, offering his observations, explaining to Jack how the events had affected him, had overcome his ability to process them, had buried themselves in his psyche, had damaged him. He let Jack see that he wasn't evil because of the things he'd done, in fact he was amazing for he'd used his strength to accomplish things that most men could not, in the cause of helping others. He knew that getting Jack to believe this was crucial, for rejecting it could cause Jack to descend into madness. This was the crux of Jack's therapy.

Jack had been talking at the speed of an automatic weapon, barely pausing for breath, unable to stop the words from spilling out. At first he couldn't take in the doctor's comments, but as the doctor's words started to penetrate his speech slowed. Jack became able to listen, and he heard, really heard, that he wasn't a bad man. He had done what he had to do. People had died, he had ordered others to kill, he himself had killed, he had even killed innocents, but only when it was necessary to protect, to save uncountable others. When there had been no other option, no other choice. That wasn't evil. That was an untenable, unbearable position for any man to be in. Yet Jack had done it. To save others. Only to save others.

Jack began to cry, great heaving sobs, letting go of feelings he'd never before let himself express, even when Teri had died, for even then he'd controlled himself, for Kim's sake, for his own, for his own sanity. He'd never permitted himself to fully feel. Now he did. He cried for everything, for Teri, for the guilt he'd felt, for the life he'd never had but should have, the life he'd denied himself, had never let himself have, the aloneness, the terrible aloneness, the unbearable aloneness, that he'd imposed on himself as penance, like sackcloth and ashes. His mind started to put things together. He was far from forgiving himself, he might never fully allow himself to, but he started to understand at long last that there was another way of looking at things, at himself, at the man who was Jack Bauer. That Jack Bauer was a man who deserved to live, as a man, as more than a shell.

He had been there for more than three hours, even longer than the day before, and he was thoroughly exhausted, but it was less enervating in a way. His mind wasn't beating itself up. His subconscious was starting to tell itself that there might be a worthwhile person there. A man who just might deserve a decent life..

He was able to go back to his own house that night, and he again slept straight through. When he awoke the next morning he was less tired, although he still very much felt the effects of the day before. The doctor had scheduled an appointment for that afternoon as well, for he knew that Jack needed more, much more, to get him through this crisis. But he believed that Jack would overcome it, and that this would be perhaps the most pivotal point in his life. Jack started to sense it, too.

Chapter 15

He drove himself to the doctor's office that afternoon, not as fearful of what was to come, for he felt more hopeful after the previous day's meeting. He knew that it would be tough, yet at the same time he very much wanted the release he hoped it would bring.

He wasn't disappointed. He quickly sat down opposite the doctor, and indicated that he was ready to begin without hesitation. The doctor started by asking Jack how he felt.

"I'm not sure," Jack said tentatively, for he had resisted examining his feelings. He knew he felt somewhat better, but he didn't know why. He hoped the doctor would tell him.

"That makes sense, Jack," the doctor said. "We've been going through some pretty heavy stuff. You've been talking about some of the most serious things you've faced, and that's obviously not easy, but you've never let yourself really confront any of this before. Not head-on. Think about it. You haven't written about any of this. So far you've described a lot of things about your childhood, but nothing about your missions. That tells me a lot."

Jack was silent for a moment as he thought about the doctor's words. He was right. He'd written about virtually everything except what he knew were the most important things, the things that made him need therapy. The things that had brought him to this place, to this point in his life. The things he'd never let himself really, truly face before.

"I – I don't know, Doctor. I – maybe I was leading up to them. I don't know. Maybe I misunderstood what you said when you told me to write down my background. I thought you meant my childhood, my past experiences. My life growing up. I didn't know you wanted me to write about me years, my missions with CTU."

"You didn't misunderstand, Jack. I wanted you to write about your childhood, so I can understand what your formative years were like. That's very important to understanding how you were able to accomplish what you have. I want you to tie it in to your missions, which I know are paramount in your mind, even though you've retired from CTU. Those are the things that are causing you all the stress you're feeling. It's important for you to write about those, too."

"Do you want me to keep writing, Doc? Continue my 'memoirs,' but write about my missions, too? It's kinda hard, because I've always tried to keep them separate from my personal life. I don't know if I can do both."

"Then write to about your missions for awhile, Jack. Concentrate on those, and then we'll try to tie them in to how they affected the rest of your life. Is that going to be too hard for you, Jack? You can take some time off, you know. I know how exhausting this has been. You don't have to jump into it. You can give it some time."

"I don't know, Doctor. I'll have to see. I'm not sure if I can face it just now. I may have to give it a few days. Maybe more than a few days," he admitted.

"That'll be fine, Jack. But I want you to check in with me tomorrow. You can just call me. You don't have to come in, unless you want to. But I do want to see you again this week. Saturday's good. That'll be three days. That should give things time to calm down."

"You work on Saturdays, Doc? No wonder you've got clearance from CTU," Jack tried o joke. "I hope you get paid extra for week-ends. God knows we never did."

"Nope," the doctor replied. "Same as you guys. Always on call, and straight salary. No overtime."

"That's the government for you," Jack said, hoping it sounded light. For all the work he'd done over the years, he'd never complained about the money, although it had never to come close to adequately compensating him or the other agents for the countless times they'd risked life and limb. They'd all simply accepted it as one more part of the sacrifice they made for their country.

"Yeah, Jack, it's just what we do," the doctor said, deliberately keeping his statement in the present tense. He knew that although Jack no longer worked for CTU, he was still paying the price for all his years there, and always would. For Jack Bauer, his work as an agent would never be a thing of the past.

Chapter 16

The next day was very hard. Unlike the previous night his sleep was frequently interrupted by dreams he couldn't remember when he awoke, but he was drenched with sweat and he was exhausted when the morning came. He resisted getting out of bed, something he'd never before done in his life, but after tossing and turning for an additional hour he gave up, showered and dressed and made his way to the kitchen.

Out of spite and resentment (towards whom he couldn't say) he made the highest cholesterol breakfast he could think of and drank five straight cups of regular coffee, which made him so sick to his stomach that he vomited and suffered a tremendous headache afterward. He closed the blinds and lay on his couch, hating himself, still not realizing or admitting that his resentment was directed not at others but at him, for he was still unable to face what he knew had to come. He had to face what he had fought all his life to avoid. The things that he had tried hardest to bury. Slowly he admitted it to himself. As with all other things, he could never run away.

With this acknowledgment the headache started to fade and he rose from the couch and opened the blinds, but he couldn't make himself sit at the laptop, which now seemed to dominate the room. Suddenly it seemed 10 feet tall, dwarfing him. He had been uncomfortable when he'd first started recording his 'memoirs,' but he'd hidden his true memories by writing about comfortable things, his childhood, his adolescence, the less-painful missions, even Teri's death, with which he'd wrestled and finally made his peace. But he'd assiduously avoided the things he'd never even acknowledged to himself: the deaths he'd caused, he'd committed, the missions he'd planned, he'd carried out, the ones that had failed, even those that had succeeded, but at a price that could never be disclosed to anyone. Not even himself.

The doctor had said he could take some time off, and Jack tried to cling to this. He grabbed his gym bag in the hope that endorphines would help ease the pain. He ran a mile more than usual at the track, then worked out for 10 minutes longer than his customary routine on the weight machines before swimming 75 laps instead of his usual 50. It didn't help. Rather than the usual high the exercise always brought he only felt more tired. The shower only left him feeling more morose. Although it was only noon he stopped at a local bar and ordered a beer and waited for the Dodgers game to begin at 1. He knew he was in trouble, but he didn't care. He also knew he should call the doctor, but he didn't care about that, either. Suddenly, he didn't care about anything.

Chapter 17

By five o'clock he had had six beers, and he was blitzed. The bartender refused to serve him any more, and told him to call someone to drive him home. Jack wouldn't call Kim, he was still thinking enough not to want her to see him like that, to be honest he didn't want to hear her lecture him, so he decided to call a cab.

As soon as he managed to get the key in the door he barely made it to the bathroom before he vomited for the second time that day. The headache that followed didn't go away as quickly, though. It wasn't a hangover, it was a full-blown self-induced, self-indulgent punishment.

He dragged himself to the laptop, determined to start. His couch, his bed did more than call to him, they screamed to him like a siren, but he blocked them out, and his fingers started tapping, the memories pouring out, the blocks finally unplugged. He was back in Afghanistan, in the days before the Taliban, in the days when the Soviets were trying to take over the country, and the US was trying to prevent the take-over.

Chapter 18

He was pinned down with his men, on a mission as a lieutenant in Special Forces. He and his squad, commanded by a captain he didn't fully trust, had parachuted in the night before, and they had lost three before they even landed, cut down by insurgents hidden in the forest. Spotters had warned against using that landing zone, had said it wasn't safe, but Captain Craigen had insisted that they would go in there. Already the mission was a disaster, and Jack knew it wouldn't get any better. He hadn't liked the way the captain had laid it out, and he had suggested alternatives, respectfully, but his commander, an arrogant man, had told him in so many words to shut up and obey the chain of command. He wouldn't tolerate disrespect, he'd said, and Jack's job was to carry out his orders, not to question them.

Jack had never served under a man like that before; as an officer he'd always worked with men who'd welcomed input from juniors and listened to them, heard them out, even if they hadn't ultimately taken their advice. But not Captain Craigen. Jack had enough confidence in himself, in his abilities, to know they were headed for disaster, and it wasn't arrogance on his part. He knew what he could do, and he realized what this commander couldn't. Lives would be lost on this mission, unnecessarily, and there wasn't anything Jack could do about it.

When the men had reassembled at their designated position after the jump, after the bodies of their comrades had been recovered under fire and buried, despite Craigen's misgivings but with his grudging permission, for he was smart enough to know that the men wouldn't tolerate an order to just leave the dead out in the open for the insurgents to dismember as the men knew they would do, Craigen ordered them to check their weapons and again review their plans. Adjustments had to be made because of the loss of the three men, two riflemen and a spotter. In addition, they had learned when they landed that another man had been shot in the leg, and there was no way he could or would be left behind. That posed a special problem for the mission, for he would be brought along, and not only would that slow them down, but two other men would have to carry him. That would leave them six men short.

Craigen divided up the men into two groups, and he put Jack in charge of the forward group, with Craigen leading the three men in the rear. This division was a mistake, Jack thought, for they were already spread too thin. Jack and his men had rifles and a hand-held missile launcher. They did not have a spotter to gauge the range of their missiles, though, which meant accuracy was next to impossible. It became a suicide mission, for the few men could not possibly hold off the horde of insurgents they were sure to encounter. Even with the group behind them they could not hope to come out alive. All of the men knew it.

Jack tried to reason with Craigen, but Craigen accused Jack of being a coward. Jack seethed, but there was nothing he could do. He couldn't supercede his captain's orders. The split groups moved out, all of the men wishing Jack was in charge, for they knew that they didn't have a prayer of surviving the mission as it was laid out.

Almost immediately they came under fire, but it was from the rear. They were pinned down, and the enemy was so close that the sole spotter in the group, one of Craigen's group, couldn't even gauge the range for his own missileman, who was the first to die. The spotter was able to call out a range for the missile to the man in Jack's forward group, who launched his with accuracy and wiped out the men closing in on them from behind. The two groups started to move together but Craigen ordered them to split up again. Jack respectfully suggested to Craigen that it would be safer for the men, and more effective if they closed ranks, but Craigen's response was to tell Jack that he would have Jack court-martialed when they returned, for cowardice. Jack saw movement up ahead, and with his usual accuracy cut down several men closing in on them. While Jack and his group were taking out the enemy ahead of them, more insurgents were coming up on Craigen's group in the rear, taking out two more men. In defiance of Craigen's orders the rest of Craigen's group joined Jack's. Craigen himself moved up with them and glared at Jack, warning him silently not to say anything.

Pinned down, Jack ordered the remnants of the squad to form a phalanx and they returned fire, and somehow managed to repel the attack that came at them from all sides. They beat off the attackers, and then there was quiet. The group was safe, at least for the moment. Craigen said nothing.

While the men drank quietly from their canteens and ate energy bars, Craigen sat by himself, studying maps. Despite Craigen's threats Jack tried to talk to him again.

"Sir," Jack began, "there's a thin copse of trees about a half click to the northeast, about 30 degrees elevation. If we form a perimeter we'll be able to see them coming at us. The men can rest, and we can move out tonight."

"Bauer, how many times do I have to tell you? You're a fcking coward, and I won't stand for it. How you got to be an officer in this man's army I'll never understand. I'll see you behind bars when this is over. We're not waiting like girls to move out at night. We're going to go in like men and take out that command post before we leave, and that's final. If you bring this up again I'll shoot you myself. Do I make myself clear? Now shut the fck up. I don't want to hear another fcking word out of you. Not another fcking word."

Jack went back to the men, furious and frustrated. There was nothing else he could do, yet he knew if he didn't do something all of the men would die. That he would die, too, wasn't something he even considered.

Chapter 19

No one could sleep, despite the rotating watch. The danger the men knew they were in precluded that. Besides, they knew their best chance was to proceed under darkness, but the captain resisted that too, and these men, all experienced Special Forces, were furious. They were professional army, though, so the concept of disobeying an order never entered their minds, although it would have been understandable in their circumstances. They were being led straight to their deaths.

As dawn broke Craigen called them to their positions. They started out as a group, the idea of splitting up realistically but reluctantly having been abandoned by the captain, and the beginning was surprisingly smooth. On their bellies despite the snow the men in their winter camouflage made their way over the difficult terrain, but the movement of their weapons was unmistakable. There was no way to disguise rifles and weapons belts and especially missiles.

The captain had decided to go straight in rather than stick to trees for cover as Jack had urged, and they had managed to go two clicks, leaving only a kilometer to go to their objective before the hostile fire began, but they were completely out in the open. There was absolutely no cover around. Jack immediately formed the men into a defensive position, forgetting about Craigen, who inexplicably remained silent. Jack grabbed a missile launcher and he and the assigned missileman took range directions from the rmaining spotter and fired at the insurgents closing in on them, while the riflemen picked off the others.

After a furious firefight that on reflection Jack realized lasted bare minutes but while living through it had seemed interminable the silence was sudden and unbelievable. They had beaten off the enemy, and his men were still alive. Without waiting for the insurgents to re-form Jack ordered his squad to make for the command post, and with the help of the snow that started to fall almost horizontally they arrived intact, Craigen among them.

They quickly overran the post that had been badly damaged by their missiles, and after killing the men still alive inside they took shelter there. Jack called for extraction, but was told that due to the weather it was impossible. They'd have to wait it out.

Craigen still said nothing so Jack posted guards, assigning the men a rotating schedule, providing relief for half the squad so the other half could rest. He would try to stay awake until the chopper could get them out.

After checking the guard positions he sat for the first time in hours and quickly ate four energy bars. He drank copious amounts of water, and as he got up he found himself staring at Craigen's pistol.

He was shocked into silence. The men standing guard had heard the movement behind them and turned to see their captain pointing his weapon at his second-in-command, the man they knew had saved their lives. The men off-duty who were dozing sensed that something was wrong, and they became alert, Everyone was frozen.

"Captain," Jack said carefully, "please holster that. Sir, with all due respect, why are you doing this?"

"Lieutenant, I've had enough of your insubordination. You've disobeyed every order I've given. You've endangered all of the men on this mission, you killed three men when we 'chuted in, you killed the spotter when we were attacked, all of that is your fault. You got half this squad killed. You're a coward. Cowardice under fire. The penalty for that is death. As your commanding officer I have the authority to execute you. I'm going to carry that out."

"Sir, with all due respect, can we talk this out? The storm should let up soon, and they'll be able to get us out. I'll turn myself in as soon as we get to base, and you can have me court-martialed. I won't contest the charges. That'll be better, don't you think? No one will question your decision, and there won't be any inquiry against you. It'll look better for your record. No one will think of you as the officer who shot one of his men in the field." Jack spoke hesitantly, quietly, not knowing what would set the man off, make him shoot him.

"You can't talk your way out of this, Bauer. You're a coward. Every time I gave an order you disobeyed it. You tried to run away. You endangered the men, you got most of them killed. The penalty for that is summary execution. I'm carrying that out now."

Jack saw that Craigen had gone over the edge, and there was no way of reasoning with him. He was going to die.

As Craigen pulled back the bolt on his pistol Jack quickly pulled his own weapon from his side and simultaneously cocked it. As Craigen raised his weapon and started tro squeeze the trigger Jack raised his own and fired. He hit Craigen in the shoulder. Craigen's shot went wild, and he went down.

Jack's aim couldn't have been better. He had missed Craigen's heart by several inches, as he intended, merely wounding the man and preventing him from firing accurately, saving his own life but not endangering Craigen's.

The spotter, who doubled as the squad's medic, immediately went to tend to Craigen, and he saw that despite the accuracy of Jack's aim Craigen's wound was fatal. The shot had severed the captain's thoracic artery, and a tourniquet couldn't be applied. He would bleed to death.

Jack called frantically for a chopper, but was told again that the snow was still too heavy for extraction. Craigen died soon after, but Jack continued to supervise the squad as they stood watch, making sure that the men had proper rest and relief, doing his duty. But he couldn't get it out of his mind. He had killed his commanding officer.

Chapter 20

No charges were filed after the informal inquiry that followed their return to base. The testimony of the entire squad, from Craigen's insistence on parachuting into an unsafe landing zone to the deaths of the men under his command to his attempt to kill Jack all made it clear that Jack had had no choice but to shoot Craigen. Jack's record showed that his expert marksmanship had made the site of Jack's shot no accident; he had really meant to miss Craigen's heart. That he had hit his captain in a crucial artery was unintentional; his death was tragic, but an accident. All of that cleared Jack officially, but it did nothing for Jack's ability to live with what he had done.

Jack refused the Bronze Star awarded to him for his part in the mission; officially, the officers in charge looked only at his bravery under fire, how he had taken command and saved his men while accomplishing the objective, not only tacitly accepting the death of Craigen, but marveling that the lieutenant had had the presence of mind, the courage to continue to carry out his duty under threat of court-martial, to take command of the squad, to save them when they were surrounded, to accomplish the mission, to do what had to be done after Craigen had obviously suffered a breakdown and had failed to lead his troops. There was no question that Craigen had frozen; from the time the squad was attacked in the open Craigen hadn't spoke, hadn't issued an order. Jack had saved the mission, and the men. Even after Craigen's death he had kept his head and protected the squad for the thirty-six hours that followed before they could be coptered to safety.

But Jack could focus only on the murder he had committed, for that was the only way he could consider it; that others could look at it otherwise, even somehow deem it admirable, worthy of a medal, was an abomination to him.

He seriously considered resigning his commission, but he knew there was no way he could fit into civilian life. The only way he could possibly hope to survive was in a military setting, where there was at least a chance that he could be with others who might have an inkling of the sense of duty and obligation that he felt. Not that others could ever understand that he had killed his CO. No one could understand that. How could anyone ever forgive it? There was never a chance that he could.

Chapter 21

The sweat pouring down his face blurred his vision so that he could no longer see the laptop screen, but it didn't matter. He was typing furiously, getting most of the words right, the spelling didn't matter, the thoughts were racing to come out. This was one of the most painful things he had ever lived through, and it was one of the hardest to face. He'd killed another officer, his commanding officer, and that it was to save his own life was no excuse. A soldier didn't do that. He didn't shoot a comrade-in-arms. He didn't shoot his CO.

When his hands stopped moving on the keyboard he couldn't control the shaking of his body. The tears that poured from his eyes mingled with the sweat dripping into his mouth until he started to choke, and once again his stomach started to heave, dry heaves for there was nothing left in his stomach, and he bent over in exhaustion. He didn't have the energy to crawl over to the couch, all his body could do was roll out of the chair onto the floor. Without knowing he curled into a ball in a stupor, his mind fighting to find darkness.

It was past 2 a.m. before he stirred, with every muscle burning and his head pounding more than any bender had ever brought on. He forced himself to his knees and shakily pulled himself up by holding onto the legs of the desk, and grabbing onto the walls he made it to the kitchen and found the aspirin bottle. He was able to get the cap off and tried to swallow four pills, but his dry mouth wouldn't let him. He put his head under the faucet and drank greedily until he felt the pills go down. Then he slid down the cabinet onto the floor, and buried his head in his hands.

He couldn't move when he heard the phone, and the pain in his brain screamed louder with each ring. Stop! he tried to command it, but after a pause it started again and again. He covered his ears with his hands, desperate to block out the noise, to block out anything that meant consciousness, for that only brought on more pain.

Kim found him there, still on the floor, his hands still over his ears, tears still pouring down his face, and he wouldn't respond to her. She grabbed the phone and called the doctor. He said he'd be right there.

Chapter 22

His body relaxed almost immediately after the doctor injected him with the sedative, and the doctor and Kim managed to get him to the couch. Jack remained unresponsive, yet despite the large dose the doctor had given him he didn't sleep. The trauma was too great.

While Kim sat with Jack the doctor went to the laptop and brought up the last entries Jack had written. It didn't take long for the doctor to realize what had brought on Jack's breakdown.

"Kim," he said quietly, "your dad has to go into the hospital."

"What?" she asked, shocked. "Why? He's doing so well!"

"He's facing things now that he hasn't had to deal with before. Terrible things that are very hard to deal with. He needs help to get through this. It's best that he be in the hospital."

"I don't understand," she said. "His heart's fine. He's fine. All of his doctors say he's fine."

"This isn't medical, Kim. It's psychological. Your father's had a breakdown. He needs therapy, medication. It's not safe to do this as an out-patient. He has to be admitted."

Kim didn't know what to say. Her father was the strongest man she'd ever known. A breakdown wasn't something she could fathom. A psychiatric hospital – people wandering around in bathrobes, talking to themselves. That couldn't be where her dad belonged. The doctor had to be wrong.

"No, doctor. That's not what he needs. Give him medicine, and I'll take care of him. He can stay with me. I'll bring him to your office whenever you say, every day, even. But you're not putting him in one of those places, with people in straitjackets. Dad doesn't belong there. I won't let you do that."

"Kim, it's for his own good. Look at him. Take a good look. This isn't something you can handle. I can't treat him just with medicine or office visits. He needs round-the-clock care by trained professionals. That's the only way to help him, to bring him out of this. Otherwise we're going to lose him, Kim. We may never be able to bring him back."

Kim was staring at her father, willing him to look at her, to talk to her, but she saw that he wasn't able to do either. His eyes were open, but he wasn't 'there.' And she had no idea where he was.

Slowly she said, "All right. What do I have to do?"

Chapter 23

Jack was unresponsive when he was admitted to the hospital but strong sedatives were administered anyway, for the doctor was concerned about the condition Jack would be in if he roused without them. He was kept sedated for several days and fed through intravenous tubes, but the doctor came to his bedside frequently and spoke to him quietly, knowing that even through the drug-induced fugue Jack would hear him, and he hoped that his voice would penetrate Jack's subconscious enough to calm him, provide some strength to enable him to begin to face the most painful period of his life.

Part of the period of intensive therapy and observation coupled with drug-induced sleep was to insure that Jack wouldn't try to harm himself. As the sedatives were tapered off Jack took several days to come to his senses, but after he did he realized what the shrinks were really concerned about, and it stunned him. All the times he'd looked at his gun, had considered eating it, especially after Teri's death, it hadn't been a real possibility, but now, now...he realized they were right. If they'd left him alone, he just might have.

After he was awake and alert, after they'd cut way back on the sedatives, he'd had twice-daily sessions with his doctor, going over what he'd written about the mission in Afghanistan, and the death of Captain Craigen. Jack hadn't been able to talk about it at first, he'd just cried when he saw the papers in the doctor's hand, the print-out from his laptop, but he'd known instantly what it was, and it had set off an emotional reaction that had caused the doctor to inject more sedatives. They'd kept Jack that way for another couple of days, finally tapering off the medicine while the doctor quietly talked to him, talked him down, until after the last dose was wearing off Jack could begin to speak half-way rationally. But he was still kept under close observation. Suicide watch.

"I blocked that, Doc. I mean, I completely blocked it. In all these years I never let myself think about that mission, about Craigen, not even once. How could I do that? I tore myself to pieces over other missions, over Nightfall, but I never thought about Craigen. Am I insane? How could a sane person so completely block his mind like that? It's not like forgetting something at the grocery. I murdered a man, and I completely put it out of my mind. I'm insane. I ought to be locked away. I can't be out there, with people, especially with people I love. I might hurt them, and not even know it. What if I hurt people, Doc? What if I hurt Kim? You've gotta keep me locked up, Doc. You've got to."

The pain in Jack's voice was wrenching, and there was no point in trying to reach him rationally in that condition. Only constant therapy could possibly save this man. The doctor sighed as he called for another, stronger sedative. Jack's pain was as bad as he'd ever seen. The longer the PTSD lasted, the deeper it became embedded, the harder it was to treat. And Jack had lived with it for a long, long time. His super-human emotional strength, what had seen him through so many horrors, was one thing, the doctor knew. Whether it was enough to overcome this was another. He didn't like the odds. Besides, he wasn't a betting man.

Chapter 24

Their daily sessions had continued, as had the sedation. Jack was treated well in the hospital, but it wasn't the orderlies or the nurses who would make the difference. It was a question of whether Jack had the inner strength to fight back.

It was obvious that Jack's pain wasn't abating, and Kim's requests to see her father were discouraged by the doctor. Jack didn't want to see her, anyway. Not that he voiced it; he simply didn't respond when he was told that Kim had asked to see him, and the doctor had told her that it wasn't good for Jack to have any visitors, even, especially, her. Jack was too wracked by guilt to see her. Kim would arouse more guilt in Jack, for she would represent the normalcy of life that he believed he never should have had, for he felt that having killed Craigen he never deserved to go on living, and that meant he never should have had the pleasure of a family, of a wife and child. Kim was devastated, but she was determined to do what was best for her father, and she abided by the doctor's instructions, especially when he promised to keep her apprised of her dad's condition.

When the sedatives were finally discontinued and Jack seemed able to think rationally the doctor tried to focus Jack on the events in Afghanistan, the underlying cause of Jack's PTSD. He tried to get Jack to talk about them, not just what he had written about the military action but his feelings about the mission from beginning to end, from parachuting in to when they tried to award Jack a medal that he refused.

Jack tried to start, but soon faltered. Even remembering his objection to jumping into the dangerous landing zone was too much for him, for it brought back memories of knowing that the mission would bring death to his men, for that was how he had always thought of them. He hadn't been in command, but still they were 'his' men. The pain of

re-living it was what the doctor expected for the first time: unbearable. He knew that much more intensive in-patient therapy would be necessary if Jack was to face this.

Chapter 25

The next days followed the same pattern. Jack tried to talk, but even starting overwhelmed him. He couldn't get past the idea that he should have stopped Craigen sooner, not even have let him send the men in, let them jump, when it was so obvious that the mission would be a disaster from the get-go. He, Jack, should have stopped him. That he was a mere lieutenant while Craigen was a captain didn't matter; he should have stopped him. Jack couldn't get past that, and the doctor knew it was useless to try, not until he was stronger. How long that would take, if it would ever happen, that was the question, and the answer was unknown. Unknowable.

Chapter 26

The lack of sleep and nourishing meals – for Jack would only pick at his food – was taking an obvious toll, and the exhaustion the sessions brought meant they had to cut back,. This was obviously detrimental, but there was no way to avoid it. Even with sleeping pills and high-calorie drinks Jack's energy continued to wane, and he seemed to be wasting away. The doctor decided that seeing Kim might be good for Jack, give him a reason to live, but she was so shocked when she saw his appearance that the doctor cut their visit short; she was so visibly distraught that rather than comfort Jack it only made him agitated, yet it was the only thing that brought any sign of response. The doctor didn't know if that was good or bad.

Jack's listlessness at the now-daily sessions brought no breakthroughs; he still couldn't get past what he said was his failure to take over and abort the mission. The only difference was that now he said it without emotion, almost as though he wasn't talking about himself. He spoke like an automaton, and the doctor could see the flame that was at the heart of Jack start to flicker. For the first time the doctor feared for his survival.

Chapter 27

Kim was frightened when the doctor called and asked her to come to his office. She knew that her father was seriously ill, more so than she'd ever suspected, and she didn't know what to expect. As she and Chase drove to the hospital Chase tried to calm and reassure her, but he, too, was at a loss. He'd never seen a broken Jack, and had never thought anything could break him. That Jack was in such a state was frightening to him, too.

The doctor was blunt. "Your father is withdrawing, Kim. He's in a terrible depression, and it's getting worse. I can't reach him through therapy, and anti-depressants won't touch this. He's locked himself away, he's shutting himself down, 'cause that's the only way he can deal with the pain. We have to bring him back, or we're going to lose him."

He paused, for he knew that his next words would frighten them still more. "There's one treatment left to us, and it's extreme, but there's no other option. It's called electro-shock therapy, electro-convulsant therapy. With ECT electrodes are attached to the head, and electric currents are sent to the brain. It stimulates the synapses of the brain, and the purpose is to shock the patient back to reality. There's an extremely serious side effect. As the name indicates it usually causes convulsions. And there's another serious downside, of course. Memory loss. Sometimes it's temporary, sometimes it's not. But I don't see another way. Without it your father will never leave here. He'll never recover." The doctor drew in his breath sharply. "But it may not work."

Kim had never been so frightened in her life. She was losing her father to a place she'd never known existed, yet the doctor was advocating a way of reaching him that sounded even worse. His last words resonated in her ears. It might not work.

Chapter 28

The doctor had told Kim that she didn't have to make up her mind that day, but that a decision couldn't be postponed indefinitely. She didn't sleep, she didn't eat, unknowingly she was imitating the state her father was in as she wrestled with what she knew was the most important decision of her life. She tried to talk it through with Chase, she met with the doctor again, the doctors whose second opinions she requested concurred with the recommendation, and ultimately she decided that she had to consent to the treatment. Her father wasn't just slipping away, he was plunging; he might already have fallen into the abyss.

The doctor wasn't surprised by her decision for he knew that she recognized the direness of Jack's condition, and the ultimate hopelessness of it. But she cried uncontrollably as she signed the consent forms, and Chase had to support her by the elbows as she wrote.

"I know how hard this is for you, Kim," the doctor said, "but I really think it's the right decision. Your dad isn't responding, and there's no other way."

She looked at him with a maturity in her eyes that Chase had never before seen. "I hope to God you're right, Doctor. When will you start?"

"Probably the day after tomorrow," he responded. "We're giving him a full physical now, and he's scheduled for an MRI and brain scan tomorrow. Once we have the results we'll begin the treatments."

Kim winced when she heard the procedure described as a 'treatment;' shocking her father's brain sounded like torture to her, not something gentle or benign. It made her question her decision yet again, but she resolutely stuck with it.

"Can I be here, Doctor?" she asked. "I realize I can't be in the room, but can I see him afterwards?"

"No, Kim, I don't think that would be a good idea. He won't be awake, and if you try to talk to him he'll become agitated. I'll call you when it's over, I promise."

She tried to comfort herself with that, but she knew she wouldn't relax until she got the phone call. She wondered if she'd ever feel comfortable again.

Chapter 29

The seizures began almost immediately after the first treatment. The injection of phenobarbital controlled it, and Jack fell into a deep sleep.

In the morning, when the effects of the pheno had worn off, the doctor searched for a different look on Jack's face, but there was not yet a hoped-for improvement. As expected, Jack looked wan and exhausted and unresponsive. Another treatment was scheduled for later in the week.

Jack continued to go through the motions of eating, still not getting all the nourishment he needed, so he was given the high-calorie, high-protein shakes and puddings that the staff tried to get him to finish. Without enthusiasm Jack ate and drank some of them, at least getting some of what his body needed, both to maintain his strength and to enable him to withstand the treatments that were yet to come.

As with the first ECT there was no immediate response. Jack's lethargy continued, and with each succeeding treatment there was no break in the pattern. After four treatments no further ECTs could be done without causing irreversible brain damage, and Jack became even more unresponsive. He wouldn't talk at all.

The distress was evident on the doctor's face when Kim and Chase entered his office. "I'm afraid there's nothing more we can do," he admitted sadly. Kim had been kept apprised of each treatment, and Jack's lack of response, but hearing the doctor now, hearing the resignation in his voice, the surrender, was like a blow to her gut. It was more than she could bear, and the feelings she had been trying to control for her father's sake broke through.

"You can't give up, doctor. You can't, we can't. There has to be something else you can try, anything. I can't stand to see him like this. Isn't there something else you can do? Some other treatment?" The hysteria in her voice was unmistakable.

"I'm afraid not, Kim. We've tried everything. ECT was the last hope we had, and he just hasn't responded. We can't give him more treatments, and there's nothing left to try. We've exhausted all the possibilities. As hard as it is, you're going to have to accept that he's not going to get better. I'm sorry. I'm very, very sorry."

Chase gripped Kim's hand tightly, feeling her pain as well as his own. It was unthinkable that Jack would be like this forever, but they had to accept that it was true. Jack was lost to them.

Chapter 30

The doctor continued to check on him, of course, and as usual he found that Jack looked overwhelmingly wan and tired. But one day when he checked Jack looked – the doctor searched for the word – different. Pale, but different. Was there something there? Warily, not knowing what to was to come, the doctor started.

"Jack, can you hear me? It's Dr. Logan. I'm here, Jack. Can you look at me?"

Almost imperceptibly, Jack's head moved. He didn't look at the doctor, but the movement was definitely there.

The doctor tried again. "Jack, you've been through a lot, but we're trying to help you. I know you can hear me, and I'm going to be here with you. Take your time, just relax. You've been through a lot, and your mind is going to be foggy for awhile, but it will clear. So just try to take some deep breaths, and listen to your breathing. That's it, that's it. You're doing fine, Jack. I'll stay with you. Keep taking those deep breaths, and you'll relax. You're going to be fine."

Beneath his lids the doctor had seen Jack's eyes, which had begun to move rapidly, almost frantically, begin to slow. He didn't want to give him more sedatives, which he was afraid would send Jack back to the place he needed so desperately to escape, so Dr. Logan was trying to get Jack to use some bio-feedback to calm himself. After a few minutes the deep breaths seemed to come more easily to Jack, and his agitation eased.

When his eyes re-opened the frightened look was gone, but he didn't speak.

"Jack, you're doing fine. I know you're scared, but that's because you've been through so much. We're going to have a lot to talk about, you and I, and you're much too tired to start today, but we will soon. Today I just want you to rest and relax. The nurse will bring you something to eat, and I want you to finish it. You've lost a lot of weight, and you have to get your strength back. When you're stronger we'll be able to do a lot, and we'll work on getting you out of here. I'll be back later. I want you to keep breathing deeply, and concentrate on relaxing. I'll see you later."

When he left the doctor went straight to the nurses' station, and instructed her to check on Jack every 10 minutes and call him if Jack again became agitated. He didn't know how quickly, or what, Jack would begin to remember, and he didn't want to inject him with sedatives or tranquilizers. He wasn't going to call Kim yet. He didn't want to raise false hopes. The apparent improvement in Jack's condition might not last.

Chapter 31

Jack's condition didn't change markedly for the next few days, but he didn't sink back into his near-coma-like state. He ate better and seemed to hear his name, but he didn't speak, and didn't look at anyone who spoke to him.

One day, though, when the doctor came by, Jack looked directly at him. This time, to him, Jack looked – again he searched for the word – expectant.

"Jack, I think it's time we had a talk. You seem stronger to me, and I think we should start again. Not full sessions, you're not up to that yet, but certainly a little at a time. How does that sound to you?"

The most Dr. Logan hoped for was a nod of Jack's head, so he was surprised and pleased to hear Jack say, in a low almost inaudible voice, "All right."

The doctor gave a small smile. "You've been through the wringer, Jack. You've had a very hard time of it, a very serious depression, but you're through the worst of it now. With therapy and medication I think you're going to be okay."

Jack looked at him, waiting for more. He wasn't yet ready to really talk.

"Jack, do you remember when you came here, to the hospital?" The doctor knew that he would have to draw Jack out with questions, a little at a time.

"I – I – I think so. I'm – not sure." His voice wasn't much more than a whisper, and it was hesitant, not surprising for a man whose brain had been scrambled by electric current.

"You were admitted because you had what laypeople call a 'breakdown,' Jack. You couldn't cope with the memories that came to the surface. I think you remember what we were talking about, Jack. Do you? Do you remember?"

The pain that took over Jack's face was like an occupying force; every muscle seemed to constrict as the thoughts took control, squeezing them like a vise, until the pain forced tears to run down his cheeks. Nevertheless he whispered, "Afghanistan." He paused. "Craigen."

He sank deeply into the bed as though he wanted it to swallow him. The tears coursed down his cheeks onto his lips, onto his chin, dripping onto his chest, and he wasn't aware of them. His eyes reflected a pain that all the shocks could never have caused. The pain of remembrance.

Dr. Logan held Jack's hand as the sobs began, and grew into loud, wracking wails that tore at his body until they just couldn't continue anymore, and they tapered off again into muffled sobs, and he fell asleep. The doctor sat with Jack for awhile after that, still holding his hand, feeling so much for this man who was suffering so, and who still had so much pain ahead, if he was to recover.

"God, I hope so," the doctor said to himself. "God, I hope so."

Chapter 32

He had never thought he could feel so exhausted, but that was how Jack felt when he awakened the next morning. He was disoriented at first, not recognizing where he was, and terribly frightened when he realized that he didn't know his name, although that only lasted for a moment, but it was long enough to bring on panic.

The orderly heard the crash and ran in to find Jack climbing out of bed and getting entangled in the sheets before falling hard to the floor. He was surprised that this undernourished man could put up such a fight as he tried first to restrain him and twrestle him back into bed. A male nurse heard the commotion and came to help, and together the two got Jack under control and in restraints.

It was only six in the morning so Dr. Logan was called at home, and by the time he got to the hospital Jack was even more agitated. The restraints had provoked more memories, ones he and Jack hadn't even gotten to explore, and they threatened to put Jack over the edge. A strong shot of valium immediately knocked him out, and the doctor ordered the restraints removed.

The doctor sat sadly at Jack's bedside, wondering how much damage had been done. He knew from Jack, from the files he'd seen, what being restrained would mean to him. He couldn't fault the staff; they'd had no other way of dealing with a patient who was so out of control that he was a danger to himself. Should he have sedated Jack, kept him drugged to prevent this? No, he told himself. That would have been worse. Jack's mind had to be able to clear itself, without drugs, to recover from the treatments before it could deal with the horrors that had necessitated them, and the day before had shown that it had started to do just that. Anything else would have put them – Jack – back at square one.

Chapter 33

Jack was calm when the doctor checked on him later, even without the restraints, and his eyes looked alert although they seemed fixed on the ceiling. The doctor spoke to him in a soft voice after deliberately walking in with a heavy step, for he didn't want to startle Jack.

"How are you feeling now, Jack? You had a hard time this morning. I'm sorry they had to restrain you, but you were having" – the doctor searched for the right words – "you were agitated, and you were pulling out the IV." Again he paused. "You were – you seemed to be having difficulty dealing with things." Jack looked at him and nodded, he appeared to be accepting this although it was so vague, and the doctor was encouraged. He decided to continue.

"You've been through a lot. You've had several treatments of electric shock to your brain to try to bring you out of your depression. The last one was two weeks ago. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

There was a long pause, but finally Jack nodded. It was slight, but it was definitely there. It had been risky, telling Jack about the treatments, but he seemed to have taken i well. Not all patients did

"Do you want to talk about it, Jack? I know news like this can be hard to take, and it might be a good idea to discuss it. If you feel up to it, we can try it."

"Yes," Jack said, almost inaudibly. "Yes."

The doctor sat at his bedside and asked Jack how he was feeling. Not surprisingly, Jack, in a halting voice, said that he had a headache, and the doctor reassured him that it was a result of the treatments, and would go away. He was wary of telling Jack about the convulsions, for he thought that it might be too much for him to absorb at one time. But Jack surprised him again.

"Did I – Did I have a seizure?" Jack asked quietly. "Did I?"

"Yes, you did," the doctor replied. "It was because of the treatments."

"Did it happen more than once? I think it happened a lot. I think I remember that."

"Not a lot, Jack, but you did have several seizures, because of the treatments. That's how the shocks affect the brain. But there's no permanent damage," he tried to reassure him, "they were expected." After a breath he continued, "You should be fine, Jack, they seem to have worked. It looks like you're coming out of it."

Jack looked puzzled. "Coming out of what? I don't understand." Because of the treatments he had no memory of his earlier conversations with the doctor, a common reaction.

"Depression. A very deep depression. That's why we gave you the ECTs. Anti-depressants weren't working, and I couldn't reach you through therapy. The only alternative was the shock treatments. And it looks like they worked."

The look of confusion on Jack's face was replaced by concern, almost fear. "Will it return? The depression, I mean. Will it come back?"

"I don't think so. I think we can deal with it now, with medicine and therapy. In a few days, when you're stronger we can resume your regular therapy sessions, and you're already getting anti-depressants every day. That's what the IV was for and we can discontinue that, but we'll start you on pills by mouth now. You'll probably have to take those for the rest of your life, but the newer drugs don't have side effects you'll need to worry about. While you're here we'll find the right medications with the right dosages, so that when you're discharged we'll have you on the right drug regimen. You may have to have adjustments to your medications from time to time, 'tune-ups,' in effect, but that's normal. And your therapy will continue for a long time, Jack, but that shouldn't be a problem, either. I think you're going to be fine. You're certainly over the worst of it. We can deal with it now."

Jack seemed able, even willing, to accept what the doctor was telling him, and for the first time since their conversation began he appeared to relax. The concept of recovery was sinking in, even though he might possibly have to be in therapy forever. He could be well, and he found that he wanted to be. He didn't think he'd ever wanted that before.

Chapter 34

Jack's exhaustion precluded more detailed conversations for several days after that, until finally the doctor decided that he might be up to a real session.

The doctor helped Jack into his robe, and Jack stood, wobbling a little from weakness as he got out of bed. Holding his arm, the doctor guided Jack down the hall to his office. He was surprised that Jack seemed to get stronger as they walked.

Jack sat in a comfortable chair across from the doctor, no desk between them, and tried to gather his thoughts. He realized that they were scrambled, and that greatly troubled him. He had been shocked by the doctor's words - electric shocks to his brain - and he was still too far out of it to recognize the irony, but he had a lot of questions.

"Electric shocks," he began tentatively. "You gave me electro-shock therapy?"

The doctor wasn't surprised by Jack's apparent memory loss, for that was one of the known side effects of ETC. Jack had known of various types of torture, and ECT wasn't that far removed from some of them. That Jack was discomfited by it – horrified was probably a better word, the doctor thought – was hardly surprising. The doctor would have been troubled if Jack hadn't been.

"Yes, Jack, you were in such a deep depression that that was the only treatment available. We gave you four treatments, but there was no immediate effect. It took a couple of weeks before you responded."

"You said it took a couple of weeks. Do you mean two, exactly?" He wanted a frame of reference. He needed to get a grasp of time.

"Yes, Jack, two. The treatments were spaced at 5-day intervals, and the last one was three. You began responding last week."

"How long have I been here, doctor? In the hospital, I mean."

"Almost three months, Jack. We tried therapy and medication before we started the treatments, but you didn't respond to those. So we had to go to the ETC."

Jack didn't react, so the doctor continued. "You were admitted after you had a breakdown as an out-patient. Do you remember when you and I were meeting in my office?"

Jack was silent a moment before he answered. "Yes," he said quietly, "I remember." He was quiet again. "We were talking about Afghanistan."

There was a long silence while Jack stared at the floor. "I guess we still have to talk about it." He lifted his head to see the doctor nod.

Chapter 35

As the sessions progressed Jack really started to really respond. He began to eat the meals that were brought to him, not finishing them at first, but eating more of each plate until he was finishing what was on the tray, along with the high-calorie, high-protein shakes and puddings he was given. He began to re-gain the weight he had lost and to walk around the hospital floor, doing more 'laps' each day, and his alertness increased along with his physical strength.

The doctor decided that Jack was able to resume their twice-daily sessions, and he gently reminded Jack of their previous conversation. "Jack, the last time we spoke we

went straight to what caused you so much pain. I think we'd better go a little more slowly. Before we go there let's talk a little more about..."

Jack cut him off. "No, doctor. I want to talk about Afghanistan."

The doctor sat back, surprised. "I'm not sure that's the way to go, Jack. In fact, I'm pretty sure it isn't. It's the hardest thing for you to face. Let's take it a bit easier, and build up to it. Let's start somewhere else."

Jack's continued to look at him, and the doctor realized that he had been wrong. The look on Jack's face wasn't expectation, it was determination. For the first time he was seeing the inner strength that had carried this man through the horrors of his life, even though his sub-conscious had always sublimated the mission to block the blame it carried for what happened in Afghanistan.

"I killed Craigen," Jack said softly, the admission twisting his face in pain. "I killed my CO, yet I've never been punished for it. I think that was the hardest part. No one ever blamed me for it, so I've always blamed myself."

The statement rocked the doctor. It was the heart of the problem, and Jack had gone straight to it. This man was fighting to get better, and for the first time the doctor really had hope.

"Why do you think you deserved to be punished, Jack? Do you still think it was wrong?" He waited, knowing that Jack's answer was crucial.

The pause that followed went on for a long time, and Jack wrestled with the answer as never before. Now that his mind had let the mission re-surface, he knew that was the crux of his pain. This was the problem he had to resolve.

"I'm – I'm still not sure," he finally said. "I – I didn't – there was no choice. He was trying to kill me. It was him or me. I'm sure of that. I've faced that before, and I've saved myself before, on other missions, with CTU. Maybe it was because he was my CO, or because it was the first time. I don't know."

He was quiet again, but then he spoke with more assurance. "You know what? I just thought of something. They tried to give me a medal. Do you think that was it? That they told me what I did was great? I certainly never thought so. But the others – my superior officers – they wanted to give me a medal. I thought that was obscene. Do you think that it was? Do you think that was it?" He fell into silence again.

The doctor took his time to answer. He hadn't thought of it, either, but it made some kind of sense. Approval of such an abhorrent act would cause such confusion, go against everything this man believed in, that it might make his mind shut down while it tried to digest it, make sense of it, and finally bury it when it couldn't do either.

"It makes sense to me, but what do you think, Jack? You're the only one who can answer that. What does your gut tell you?"

Chapter 36

In the many sessions that followed Jack talked about the times he had been captured, tortured, the many things that he had endured, but that he'd always minimized, refused to acknowledge, which he now realized he had accepted as his due for what he had done to Craigen and for what he he thought of as letting his men down, letting men die, even though those things had been beyond his control, beyond the abilities of any man to prevent. The demands he had always made upon himself were wrong, the doctor helped him see; he had spent his life punishing himself for what had never been his fault. He had mentally flagellated himself, finally breaking down with guilt, for no one's mind, even one as greatly disciplined and strong as Jack's, could take such torment forever.

He talked more freely after that, telling the doctor of the other disasters that had made up the mission in Afghanistan and the other operations he'd undertaken, both with Special Forces and then on behalf of CTU, re-living the unavoidable failures and the deaths and, with the doctor's prodding the successes and the many, many lives he had saved. Jack had denied himself the pride and the satisfaction the latter had meant, for the disasters, especially Craigen's death, had made him feel that he didn't deserve to feel good about himself. For the first time he began to acknowledge to himself that he had helped people. He understood that he was, in fact, not only a good man, but more than that. He had more than made a difference. The doctor even told him that he was extraordinary.

He had fought that last, embarrassed at the notion, and it was something he would never accept. That was too much, that went against his underlying personality. So be it, the doctor thought. It was enough that Jack knew that he was good. He wasn't a monster. He deserved to live, to have a good life.

He felt a peace that he hadn't known since the innocence of childhood. He was ready to go home.


	11. Part XI

Part XI

Chapter 1

He was wobbly as he walked into his townhouse although he insisted to Kim and Chase that he was all right, and the doctor had given the okay for him to live alone. He'd been discharged from the hospital that morning after his long stay, and he would have to adjust to several things: his new feelings about himself, and his life-long need for medication and therapy. Neither would be easy.

Discharging Jack from the hospital, letting him live on his own was a calculated risk, but it was necessary in the doctor's view for Jack to feel that he belonged in society, that he wasn't a killer but a worthwhile human being. As a feeling of well-being slowly returned and he became more comfortable with himself and confident in his survival,that he indeed deserved to survive, the doctor hoped that he would come to grips with his past actions, not only the things that he had done, but in the good that they had meant to so many.

Jack understood and was coming to accept that he was clinically depressed and always would need treatment for it, and while a part of him resisted the diagnosis that he had a mental illness, for such a thing was anathema to him, his intellect told him that resistance was absurd. He knew that he had experienced the worst of it and he never wanted to return to the point that drastic treatment might be necessary, so he accepted the need for medication and therapy. His reluctance was natural, Dr. Logan told him; there would have been something seriously wrong if he liked the idea. He stuck to his medication regimen with his usual discipline and went to his therapy sessions with the same resolve, and he felt that he was making progress. That made the whole thing easier to accept.

That didn't mean that the issues he wrestled with were any easier. He still couldn't justify many of his actions, although to the 'real world' they never would be. But in the world he lived in, that rarified world, they couldn't be condemned, not really.

He had spent exhausting days before his discharge from the hospital reliving horrors with Dr. Logan, and he continued to confront these once he went home: the deaths of Nina, Chappelle, a myriad of others, how he would have put Jane Saunders in the hotel, how he had been capable of it, how he hated himself for it, yet it was that which had made Stephen crumble, and while millions had been saved because of it he was a stone-cold murderer for it; only because Saunders had a vulnerability had Jack been saved from that particular horror. Had the situation been reversed, he knew, he could not have sacrificed Kim, so he knew it was not that he was stronger, he was just luckier. That did not make him a better man, it just meant that he had been acting on the side of the angels that day. That day. Perhaps not another day. There but for the Grace of God.

But when he shot Nina? He hadn't had to kill her. Yes, she was going for her gun, but he could have kicked it away from her, or at least disabled her, shot her in the arm, or the stomach, the leg, the chest. He didn't have to kill her. He hated her, she deserved to die, but it hadn't been his right to kill her. Not as judge, jury and executioner. Only a born killer could think, act that way, and that was precisely what he had done, so he was a born killer. Ipso facto. There was no other way to look at it, or him. He was convinced of it, and Dr. Logan couldn't get him to let go of that feeling.

As awful as these things were they had paled in comparison to his murder of Craigen, at least according to his subconscious, so that was what triggered his breakdown, and dealing with that, albeit by the necessity of shock treatments, had loosed his introspection and thus his ability to confront these things with his psychiatrist. They couldn't be tackled at once, of course, there were too many, and they were too complex; the medications and frequent sessions (they had been increased to three a week) were keeping him from back-sliding into the depression that had almost meant the end of his life as a functioning, reacting, real human being. Without help, Jack was still a man on the edge, but he was getting the help he needed, without protest, for instead of enemies fighting to destroy his country, he was fighting the enemies within.

Chapter 2

Most difficult, of course, most incomprehensible, was the death of Chappelle. Was it murder? No one could answer that, for no one else had ever faced such a thing. Chappelle had been an innocent, yet he had submitted to his death, in the line of duty. Palmer had sanctioned it, but he had put the burden of it on Jack by telling him to do it, but not only that, more horrific, he had told Jack to do it if Jack couldn't think of another way, putting the horrible onus on Jack. A terrible, unbearable, unforgivable burden, a coward's way out, yet Jack had done his duty as a lesser man could not, and it was Jack who suffered for it. Palmer had passed the unspeakable to Jack.

Even Dr. Logan couldn't help Jack to make peace with it, for Logan himself could not. No one familiar with the files of CTU agents, as the doctor was, had ever seen a situation like it, where such a nightmare was put upon an agent, and Logan picked up on how Palmer had 'passed the buck,' had 'chickened out,' had ducked his ultimate responsibility as President of the United States. But Jack came to recognize that the man he idealized, respected, esteemed so highly, had betrayed him. It was a punch in the gut to him.

With the help of the doctor Jack came to accept a basic truth about himself: for all his extraordinary accomplishments, for all he had done to serve his country, to save it, he had failures, of the kind that would always haunt him and torment him, but he was overcoming them, and he deserved to, for he was a human being, a man, nor a superman, and he all his adult life he had made super-human demands on himself. Not just because others did; he hadn't had to accept them, he had borne them willingly, perhaps gratefully, and they had almost destroyed him.

This was a flaw he had to continue to examine, and he came to believe that, of all things, it might represent a lack of self-confidence, a need to prove himself to himself. It was an entirely new concept for him, something that threw him, but he was able to handle it for he was developing a mental health that had eluded him, and a self-confidence that he had lacked. The irony did not escape him, and he resolved to focus on it, for he believed it was key to understanding why he had acted as he had, why he had undertaken his assigned missions, accepted the failures and gone on to tackle more, realizing that he always had to prove himself, mostly, overwhelmingly, to prove himself. Not to others. To him. To Jack Bauer.

His greatest pain was his personal failure, his loss of Teri and their child, and nothing would ever make that go away. He would always consider it a failure, despite saving Palmer that day, and nothing could change that. What he could do, and he saw this for the first time, was to learn to live with it. That was his goal, and he began to believe it was attainable.

So as the days went by he was increasingly able to function on his own, despite Kim's misgivings, and the doctor had thought it vital to Jack's recovery, for it helped his feeling that he could be a man fit to live in society instead of a killer who belonged in a prison, locked up and kept from other people, which the hospital began to represent to him.

As he went about the daily events of living, the chores and tasks, laundry and trips to the supermarket, cleaning and fixing a leaky faucet, eventually going for walks and then to the gym Jack began to feel stronger, his physical health returning, and then his feeling of mental strength and well-being. He started to feel that he belonged with people, that he was no longer a threat to them, and he slowly healed.

He saw Kim and Chase frequently, first with quiet lunches with Kim, then going to their house for barbecues and swims in their pool, enjoying again his grandchildren and great-grandchild, and ultimately feeling restored to life. As Dr. Logan had told him his medications were occasionally adjusted, sometimes some substituted for others, more likely a dosage kicked slightly up or down so that he maintained an even keel, the depression kept mostly at bay, and with the frequent sessions he continued to unburden himself and come to grips with his past, his need for self-validation, his need to come to grips with his failures, the loss of Teri and their unborn child. He was clearly on the way to health, better than he'd ever been since he was a kid, before he'd opted for the life of a man devoted to his country.

Chapter 3

For the first time since his breakdown he didn't dream of the horrors of war and guilt and death. With medication and therapy he was able to return to his past, not the part that caused so much pain, but the part that had also given him the only pleasure he'd ever known. Returning to mental health and being with Kim meant that Teri again returned to his mind. His dreams brought him back to when he'd really, truly fallen in love.

The first night without thrashing and waking up bathed in sweat he dreamed of another time, when he'd been young and innocent, on the cusp of adulthood, when the life that lay ahead was devoid of horror and pain. As embarrassed as he'd been at the time, it was a wonderful dream.

He'd gotten a toothbrush the morning after that incident with the buttered popcorn, and he realized that he had never before thought that something so simple could bring him such pleasure. He contentedly brushed and brushed, finally feeling that he had cleaned his mouth to the degree he liked. He called Teri after that and apologized fervently. She told him that there was no problem, that she understood, that she was glad he was feeling better. He asked if they could try again that night, but she declined, explaining that she had a presentation the following day, but she asked if they could meet for coffee that afternoon. His relief was palpable, and she heard it in his voice.

"That'd be great," he said. "I'll meet you at the Union." The student union was where they usually met, and when it was possible they would spend hours talking, their earlier reticence long past. "I'll see you at two."

She sounded pleased as they said good-bye, and Jack realized that, miraculously, she seemed as interested in him as he was in her. He let himself hope that they had a future together. He'd never known he could want something so much.

Chapter 4

On their next date, after the debacle of the toothbrush, which he never told her about even after they were married, Jack kissed her, far more deeply and passionately than he had ever imagined for a 'first' kiss. Teri had responded as eagerly, pleased that he had finally made the move, still wondering why he had waited so long, even more pleased with how fervent the kiss was.

Finally disentangling themselves from their tight embrace Jack held Teri, her head on his shoulder, and he spoke to her in a low voice, telling her how important she was to him, how much he wanted and needed to be with her, how he hoped they had a future together. His words surprised him. He hadn't expected to say them to her then, that soon, although he had thought them for a long time. She, too, felt that way, although she hadn't expected him to open up like this, at least not yet.

She was caught off guard. As they sat in silence, Jack waited anxiously to hear Teri respond, while Teri tried to frame her own words. Finally, she spoke. "Jack, I've never felt this way before, but I've always hoped to feel like this. When I first saw you I...I..." Her voice trailed off, and she seemed to gather her thoughts. She began again. "That night, I thought you looked very sweet. Embarrassed, like a little boy." She felt, saw, Jack stiffen in the dim light. "I'm not trying to insult you. I thought you looked very much like someone I'd like to get to know. Sensitive, understanding. Not like the others. You looked like you didn't want to be there. You didn't want me to see you like that. You looked like a boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar. I thought it was so sweet. I liked you for that very much."

Jack let out the breath he hadn't realized he was holding. The idea that she thought he was a little boy – oh, God, he wanted her to think he was a man, a grown, sexy man. He didn't want a mother, he wanted a girlfriend, a lover – he wanted her. She'd just kissed him like a lover.

Teri felt his hand loosen on her shoulder, and she recognized that she had hurt him deeply. She desperately wanted to take back her words. She didn't know how to make it right.

"Jack, I...please don't misunderstand. When I said that you looked like a boy...I...I meant that you looked adorable. That you seemed so sweet. Not that you seemed childish, that's not what I meant. Believe me, I think you're one of the most attractive boys I've ever seen."

Again, he thought. A boy. Not a man. She can't call me a man. He'd never been so hurt, so disappointed, so devastated. They clearly had no future together. He'd made a fool of himself when he'd spoken to her earlier. She was laughing at him.

"That all right, Teri," he said, not wanting to let the hurt show in his voice. "I understand." He reached for the door handle, until she put a hand on his arm.

"Jack, please, let me try to explain. I've hurt you, and that's the last thing I want. I love you."

Chapter 5

He still couldn't get past the hurt, the 'little boy.' He knew that she was only trying to salve his wounds. She didn't love him the way he needed her to. His first feeling was right. They didn't have a future.

After another moment had passed he got out. He silently opened her door and walked her to her dorm. He kissed her on the cheek and said a soft 'good night' before he walked back to the car. He didn't bother to wipe the tears from his eyes as he drove away.

So she thought he was sensitive, he remembered as he lay in his bed afterward. What difference did it make? Sweet. Like a little boy who eats brownies with milk. He couldn't stop the tears, he didn't even try.

Chapter 6

He didn't want to take Teri's call the next day, but he couldn't stop himself when his roommate told him who was on the phone. He tried to keep his voice neutral, not to let the hurt come through, for he realized that he would sound like the little boy she had accused him of being. His thoughts during the sleepless night had shown him that much, at least. He dreaded the call he so desperately wanted, yet was so terribly convinced would come. When it did, he wanted nothing more than for it to be over.

"Jack," she said tentatively, "can you meet me at the Union? Can we meet for coffee? I need to see you. I want to talk to you. I can't believe what I said last night. Please? Will you meet me there?"

He hesitated, because he really didn't think he had the strength to put himself through this. "Okay," he said, unwillingly reluctant, meaning to sound stoic. He didn't want to sound at all emotional. He didn't even want to see her at all.

"An hour?" she asked. "Can you meet me in an hour?"

"Okay," he answered, again sounding reluctant, and it came through to her loud and clear. He couldn't say any more.

"Good," she said, trying not to let her relief come through. She knew this would be difficult, and for some reason she didn't want Jack to know what she was going to say until she saw him. She was more confused than she'd ever been, and scared. She didn't want to lose him.

Chapter 7

Jack didn't feel it when he cut his chin as he shaved, and only the drops of blood on his shirt made him realize it. "Dammit!" he said as he pulled the shirt off and put a piece of toilet paper on his face to stop the bleeding before he put on another shirt, this one with buttons. "Great, just great," he muttered to himself.

He pulled on his old jeans and slipped his feet into loafers without socks and headed for the door before he remembered to pull the paper off his chin. As he reached for his keys he decided he'd rather walk across campus. Instead of driving to the Union he'd have time to think.

He knew what Teri would say. She'd apologize for hurting his feelings, as gently as she could, he was sure of it. She was 'sensitive,' too, she hadn't intended to make him feel miserable, he knew that. She just wasn't like that, she'd never deliberately hurt anyone, especially a child, and that's what she thought he was. He was totally devastated, and it was more than ego. He was in love with her, and he'd hoped for a life with her. He'd opened up to her, told her how he felt, and she'd called him a little boy.

Jack paused before he got to the Union. He didn't want to go inside. He couldn't face the conversation he knew was coming. It wouldn't be a conversation, really, it would be an apology by Teri, an expression of remorse that she had hurt him, that she hadn't meant to, that she had enjoyed their dates, but that she just didn't feel 'that way' about him. He knew that was what she would say because she was a good person; she would never want to hurt anyone, would never have deliberately hurt him.

As he walked down the stairs to the basement café Jack tried to tell himself that it didn't matter, that this was a 'first love,' that there was another woman out there for him. He stopped on the steps when he realized that he always thought of Teri as a woman. She's a woman, he thought. I've always thought of her as a woman, I'd never think of her as a girl. She's a mature woman. Why does she call me a boy? I don't understand it, he puzzled to himself as he started to move again. I think she's 'sweet,' but I don't picture her with pigtails or playing in a sandbox. I think she's a smart, sexy woman. But she doesn't see me as a man, in any sense. Not just a boy, she thinks I'm a fool.

He hesitated before he opened the door to the coffee house. He wondered if Teri would be sitting at their usual table, in a quiet part of the café where they'd found privacy and a good place to talk, or if she'd chosen one in a more central part of the room where they'd both be sure to keep their talk more impersonal, briefer, a polite good-bye. He thought it would be the latter.

So he was mildly surprised to see Teri in their customary corner, looking down into her coffee cup, seemingly lost in thought. He thought at first it was a pose, and he realized he was bitter. How had his feelings changed so suddenly, so abruptly? He loved this woman. How could he now feel so detached from her?

She looked up as he approached her, and the seriousness on her face was matched by the look on his own. He was determined not to look grim, but he couldn't keep his voice flat, as he had hoped.

"Hi, Teri," he said, trying to sound casual, and knowing he had failed. There was no way he could be unemotional with this woman. No way.

"Hi, Jack," she responded, trying to put a small smile on her face, but that was impossible. She saw the straightness of Jack's lips and the pain in his eyes, which she knew she had caused. "Can we talk?"

"I don't know what there is to talk about, Teri," he said stiffly, standing over her. He didn't bother getting coffee, or even sitting down. This was up to her. He had nothing to say.

"Jack, I'm so sorry about last night. All the things I said...they all came out wrong. I didn't mean that you're a little boy...you're not a boy...you're a man...a wonderful man. A man I've fallen in love with. Oh, Jack, I love you so much. The last thing on earth I want to do is hurt you." Tears were pouring down her cheeks.

"Teri..." he began. The words just came out. "I want to be the man in your life. I love you." He swallowed hard. He couldn't believe how he'd opened himself to her again, how he'd made himself so vulnerable again. But he didn't seem to be able to help it. That was the effect she had on him.

"I love you, too. Oh, Jack, I want to be with you. I want to be the woman in your life, I don't want to be with anyone else. You have wonderful qualities, boyish qualities that make you so tender, so...such a joy to be with, but they don't mean you're not a man. They make you more of a man, because you're not afraid of them. You don't have to go around wearing your testosterone like a badge, waving your virility. You're the sexiest man I've ever known, Jack, and I want you. I want to be with you. I want to love you, and I want you to love me, to make love to me. Please, Jack, be the man in my life, and let me be the woman in yours." Teri was crying now, and Jack was, too.

Without thinking Jack had protectively crossed his arms in front of him and now he unfolded them and gently put his hands under Teri's elbows so he could lift her from her chair. He pulled her to him, holding her tightly against his chest. "I love you, too," he murmured into her hair as he kissed her gently on her head. "I love you so very much. So much, Teri."

They stood that way for a long time, Teri's tears soaking Jack's shirt while Jack's tears wet her hair. Finally they pulled away and smiled at each other. "Let's go," he said. "Let's just go."

Chapter 8

Their sexual relationship progressed swiftly once they started. Either at his dorm room or hers, depending on whose roommate was out, they went from passionate kisses to touching, to removing each other's clothes with increasing confidence. They had reached this place before, but Jack had always held back, although he'd known Teri had wanted more. It wasn't that he was teasing her, he just didn't want to push her, he needed to know that this was what she really wanted, for she'd never had a man before, and he didn't want her to regret it, although he finally knew that she loved him. But this time they reached the ultimate excitement, and Teri told Jack with her head thrown back as he explored her that she was ready.

He felt her tense, heard her moan, and he knew that she wanted this, she wanted him. The pressure of his thumb made her gasp, and she held his hand there, not wanting him to stop, but wanting him, him, inside her.

Jack moaned with frustration, realizing that he hadn't brought a condom, the old feeling that somehow it would be disrespectful having continued with each girl after Sandra. "All the drugstores are closed," he groaned. "And the first time isn't really safe, is it?" He was hoping what her answer would be, but he knew the truth. Even for a virgin there was a chance of pregnancy, and it was something they both knew they couldn't face.

"No, it's not," Teri moaned, just as frustrated as Jack. She couldn't believe he wasn't prepared. "Oh, God, Jack, there must be someplace else." She squirmed, maneuvering to move his fingers in deeper, thrusting against them, wanting him, inside instead, imagining what it would feel like. She needed him, and it surprised her. She masturbated after their times together, and she'd come, but she knew it would be different with him moving inside her. And she wanted it so much.

Jack's mind was too fevered to think clearly, but it finally penetrated that there was a convenience store only a mile or so from the dorm. He struggled to sit up and started to pull on his jeans. He didn't even bother with his underwear. He had trouble closing his pants, though, his protuberance making them tighter than usual, and he winced when the zipper caught the hairs around it. "Dammit!" he said, but Teri didn't notice. She just hoped Jack would hurry. She had seen how big he was, and she only wanted him in her, to fill her, to stay in her.

"I'll be right back," he said, kissing her head. "Don't move."

He was gone only a few seconds before he returned, sheepishly grabbing his keys from the floor. He left without a word and Teri huddled under the blanket. She didn't want to lose the mood, although she doubted she could. Jack had gotten her so aroused that she knew that if they didn't go ahead, if they didn't finally do this, she'd go crazy. The feeling continued until Jack opened the door mere minutes later.

"I'm back, Babe," he said unnecessarily, getting tangled in the jeans he tried to strip off before he kicked off his sneakers. When he extricated himself he slipped under the covers, hoping that the several condoms he'd bought wasn't being presumptuous at the same time he hoped they wouldn't be enough.

He touched her again, seeing that she was still ready for him, and her moan just spurred him on. He fumbled with the wrapper despite his prior experience with the things, and he hoped Teri wouldn't change her mind. If she does, he thought, I'll die.

But she didn't. As he rolled on the condom she guided him to her. He slid inside gently and she gasped and gave a little cry as entered her, but soon her sounds matched his. Gently Jack lifted her hips and guided her into a rhythm so they moved together, she welcoming, he going deeper, deeper, but afraid of going too deep the first time, not wanting to hurt her, knowing she was unused to this. But the joy of being with her, in her, took over him, and he was thrusting into the woman he loved, reveling in her love for him. After a short time he came, his back arching, tears filling his eyes, but he knew she hadn't come. As he pulled out he put his hand on her, gently asking if he'd hurt her.

So he touched her again, until she cried out again, but this time with joy, and feeling she'd never been able to bring herself to. She knew another man, a different man, could never have pleased her like this, and she was glad she had waited. She also knew she wanted it again and again.

He felt her relax in his arms, she began to doze. "Oh, Jack," she told him sleepily. "We have the rest of our lives."

Chapter 9

Jack was pleased that the condoms he had bought had not been enough for the week-end. They had learned so much about each other in that time that they had barely come up for air. On Sunday afternoon Jack made another run to the convenience store, confident that Teri would still be there when he got back. He left to get more, and he was eager to use as many of them as possible.

His stomach dropped when he got back to the dorm hallway and found that the sock was no longer on Teri's doorknob. He felt physically ill as he realized that her roommate was back. Sht! he thought. Sht! Sht! Sht!

Decorum required him to knock on the door, and when Gail, Teri's roommate, opened it she gave him a knowing smile. "Teri's in the shower," she said, sounding gleeful, for she knew what she had interrupted. "You can wait here if you want, Jack. I have a feeling she won't be long."

Jack sat on the tangled sheets on Teri's bed, imagining that he could still feel the heat they had so recently generated, and he was running his hand along the pillow when Teri came back in, wearing a robe, a towel covering her wet hair. "Sorry, Jack," she said softly as she sat next to him. "I didn't think she'd be back until tonight."

Jack couldn't think of anything to say. They were both disappointed and they both knew it. Jack's roommate was also in the dorm, studying for a test, so his room wasn't an option. Reluctantly Jack stood up. "C'mere, Babe," he said, pulling her to him. With their arms around each other he whispered, "Do you know if she'll be out at all this week? Cliff has a paper due Thursday, so I doubt he'll be going anywhere."

"I think she'll be here, too," Teri whispered back, the disappointment evident in her soft voice. "But I don't want to wait."

"Neither do I, Baby, believe me. I don't think I can. But I don't know what else we can do."

"Sorry to interrupt," Gail said, not sounding in the least sorry. "But I have a lot of studying to do and an early class tomorrow, and I didn't get much sleep this week-end. Couldn't be in my own bed, you know? So I have to break this up."

"C'mon, Jack, I'll walk you out," Teri said. His arm around her, Jack and Teri left the room.

Chapter 10

When Jack was thinking straight, no longer driven by his hormones, he remembered what Teri had said: that they might have the rest of their lives together. He recalled their weekend with amazement and delight, not only because of the physical experience they'd had, but even more importantly for the growing emotional bond they both felt. He knew, despite his youth, that it could never be stronger with anyone else. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, and he was certain now that she felt the same way. But he also knew, instinctively, that they were too young to make a permanent commitment. Besides, neither of them wanted that yet. He knew where he wanted to go with Teri, but he still wanted the experience of getting to know her better, so he'd know how to please her, not just sexually but emotionally. That was the most important thing in his life.

They saw each other whenever they could, for early breakfasts, coffee between classes, in either dorm room when it was available, for sex but also just to enjoy the growing feeling between them. Both were certain that the other was the soulmate for whom they'd always yearned. That brought more wonder and delight than they'd ever dreamed of.

As time passed, their feeling grew that they wanted to commit to each other. Their emotional bond had matured and their need for each other became certain. Jack proudly brought Teri to his parents' home, and they were delighted to see how happy she made their son. Mark and Linda Bauer genuinely liked Teri. They were impressed with her presence, her sense of humor, her wit, the way she held herself, and most importantly the way she reacted to Jack. They knew that she was good for him, and while they were concerned that Teri and Jack were very young, too young, perhaps, to be planning a life together, they believed that Jack was mature enough, and wise enough to make his own decisions, and to know his own heart.

Chapter 11

Teri's parents weren't so welcoming. Teri's father, Bill Wilkerson, barely acknowledged him when Teri introduced Jack. Her mother, Gloria, was only slightly more welcoming. Jack tried his best to make conversation with Bill, but the man barely responded. Teri looked dismayed and excused herself, saying she would help her mother in the kitchen.

"Mom," she asked her mother, "what's going on? Why is Dad treating Jack like this? He sounds like he's mad at him. Why? Why is he mad at him?"

"He's not mad at Jack, Teri," her mother answered. "He just doesn't think this Jack is good enough for you, and frankly, neither do I. He's a literature major, for God's sake. What kind of future does he have? Where do you find boys like this? Why can't you find an engineer like your father? Or a doctor, like your brothers want to be? Like I am? What's Jack going to be? You said he doesn't even want to be a teacher. What kind of life can he give you?"

"Mom, that's ridiculous. Jack is a good man, and we'll have a great life together. I love him! Doesn't that matter to you and Dad? Don't you care about that?"

"Of course we care, Teri! That's why we're so disappointed. We want you to have a good life, Sweetheart. You're our baby. That's why we care so much. Find someone else, Teri. Someone who can take care of you, provide for you. Not this Jack. Find someone else."

Teri couldn't believe what she was hearing. Her parents had never seemed materialistic to her. Why couldn't they see Jack for who he was, a good, wonderful, caring, responsible man, who loved her? Who she loved? Why did all these unimportant things seem to matter to them?

"I can't believe what I'm hearing. You can't mean this, Mom. You and Dad...you've never said this before. You don't even know Jack. He makes me so happy. We're in love. Don't you care about that? Doesn't that matter to you?" She was crying.

"Teri, of course we care about that. All we want is for you to be happy, Darling. We'll have dinner now, and we'll talk about it later. Stay here tonight, and we'll talk, after Jack leaves. Bring in the salad now, please." She walked into the dining room.

Jack stood as he saw Teri walk in from the kitchen. It was obvious that she had been crying. "Teri..." he started.

"Let's eat," Dr. Wilkerson said. "Jack, Bill, please sit down."

Jack silently took his seat across from Teri, while her parents sat at the ends of the table. Teri looked abjectly miserable and Jack knew he was the cause. He could only imagine what her mother had said to her.

The meal passed in silence and Jack felt increasingly uncomfortable. Mr. Wilkerson did everything he could to ignore Jack, going so far as to ask Teri to pass him food that was in front of Jack, and that required her to reach across the table to get it when it would have been easier to simply ask Jack to give it to him. It reached the point of absurdity when Dr. Wilkerson poured coffee and gave a cup to Jack to give to Teri's father, who refused to take it from him and instead insisted that his cup be given to Teri to be passed to him from her side of the table.

Teri pushed back her chair so hard it toppled and she ran from the dining room in tears, and with a glare from Jack at Wilkerson he followed her to the front porch and took her in his arms, trying to console her, to control her heaving sobs.

"It's okay, Baby," he soothed softly. "They'll come around. You'll see. I think they're just upset because no one's good enough for their little girl. A lot of father's – parents – feel that way. Don't cry. It's kind of funny, in a way," Jack told her, although the last thing he wanted to do was laugh. He was hurt to the quick. He'd never been so insulted, but he didn't want to add to Teri's pain. "They'll come around. Don't cry, Sweetheart. Come back inside. I don't want them to think I've upset you. That won't help things." Jack knew that he wasn't the one who'd upset Teri, but he knew the Wilkersons would blame him. No matter what Jack did, Teri's parents would blame him, but he didn't want to give them more ammunition. That would only make things harder for Teri, and he'd face them, no matter what. Jack loved her, and nothing her father or mother did or said could change that. Nothing. But she shook her head adamantly and clung to him, sobbing her heart out.

After a while Jack went inside to tell her parents that he was going to take her back to her dorm. Mr. Wilkerson exploded. "You're not taking her anywhere. She's staying here, where she belongs. This is her home. You're the one who's leaving, and you're leaving now. If you ever go near her again I'm calling the police. I mean it, Bauer. Stay away from my daughter!"

Jack was stunned and after a moment started to protest, but he knew it wouldn't do any good. He was sure Teri would say that she wanted to go back to her dorm, but he also knew that her father was adamant and determined to keep her home, and Jack didn't know if Teri was strong enough to fight him. They might have to just meet at the Union for coffee, and Jack knew that it wouldn't be enough for either of them. They were way past that in their relationship. They were committed to each other. And while Jack was sure of Teri's love, he wasn't sure of her strength.

Chapter 12

Days went by and Jack couldn't get in touch with Teri. Her roommate, Gail, said Teri hadn't returned to the dorm, and Jack knew he couldn't call her house. Those were the days before cellphones and beepers, and Jack didn't know when Dr. or Mr. Wilkerson would be at home. Jack tried to go to the Student Union when he knew Teri didn't have class, when they usually met for coffee, but still he didn't see Teri. He was frantic. Was she ill? Had her parents made her drop out of school? Transfer somewhere else? He had to reach her somehow.

Gail agreed to call Teri that Wednesday. Teri told her, in a soft voice, that her parents wouldn't let her live on campus, but would let her return to class the following Monday after insisting that she skip school that week, and only after extracting a promise that she'd never see or even speak to Jack again. She asked Gail, in a very soft voice, to tell Jack that she would meet him at their usual place and time for coffee at the Student Union on Monday. She sounded worried when she said it, Gail told Jack, almost afraid. Gail didn't know if Teri would be able to keep their 'date.'

Jack spent the rest of the week worrying. Was Teri that afraid of her father? Was he threatening her? Jack couldn't imagine Wilkerson hurting her. If he was, Jack would kill him. He didn't even have to think about it. He just knew it. He'd never let anyone hurt Teri.

The week was occupied with classes, and although Jack was somewhat distracted by lectures and his job, even that hadn't completely taken his mind off Teri. But after his homework assignments were out of the way, all he had was time to worry. What if she didn't have the strength to stand up to her parents? What if he lost her?

His fraternity brothers knew he was a basket case, although they didn't know the details, and on the weekend they insisted he go out drinking with them. A few beers in his harried state made him drunker than they ordinarily would have been, and by Sunday night he was totally sick to his stomach, more from fear than from alcohol. Monday morning the headache almost incapacitated him. Tomato juice and four aspirin made getting out of bed barely doable. But he wouldn't miss his meeting, his date with Teri for the world.

He realized he couldn't skip his classes, for he wouldn't be able to just wait with nothing to do, but he absorbed absolutely nothing from his lectures, and he almost blew up the chemistry lab through his inattention. By 2 p.m., when he headed for the Union, he could barely put one foot ahead of the other, but he made it somehow. His fear that she wouldn't be there was paralyzing, but he had to see. He had never been so afraid, but he had never needed anything so badly.

There she was, pale, thinner, sitting over a Coke instead of her usual coffee, early, obviously having skipped her last class, staring at the door, waiting for him.

She was in his arms before either of them knew it, oblivious to everyone else there, and she was sobbing, almost hysterical as he held her more tightly than he ever had and started to cry himself. "Teri, Teri," he said into her hair, "Baby, we'll work it out. I'll never give you up. You're my life, my future. I love you more than anything. To hell with them, Baby. Marry me. I'll always take care of you, I swear. Marry me."

She pulled away and looked at him, and he tenderly wiped her tear-stained face. "Oh, Jack, I want to marry you, but we can't. Not yet. We can't live like this. I hate it, but they're right. We can't live like this, we don't have the money unless we drop out of school and we both know that'd be wrong. Oh, Jack, what'll we do?" Her voice was only a whisper, and the most heartbreaking sound Jack had ever heard. He knew she was right, but it sounded like the death knell of their future. If they didn't commit to each other now, make a permanent commitment, the wedge her parents were trying to drive between them would widen until Jack and Teri couldn't bridge it, he was sure of it. He didn't know why, he knew Teri loved him as much as he loved her, but he was filled with fear.

Chapter 13

Teri surreptitiously dropped her Thursday evening course and Gail helped them out, giving them time to themselves in their dorm room. Jack and Teri spent most of the time in her narrow bed, desperate for each other, knowing their time together was limited, precious. But when they were sated, exhausted, sure they had pleased each other, they held together tightly and talked quietly, fearful that her parents would somehow learn of the deception and force her to transfer to an out-of-state school or otherwise come up with something to make sure they were apart.

Things changed abruptly when Teri walked into the Union one Monday, very pale and obviously tearful. Jack stood and went to her as she approached their table, grasping her hands. "What's wrong, Baby? Tell me."

"Oh, Jack," she said, going into his arms. "I'm late. I'm two weeks late, Jack."

Jack drew in his breath sharply, his thoughts racing. "It's okay, Baby. In fact, it's more than okay." He was murmuring into her hair, kissing the top of her head, scared and overjoyed at the same time. They would be together. Teri's parents would be furious, but there was nothing they could do. If Teri was pregnant they could be married. They would have their life, their future together. It would be rough, it would be tough, but they would manage. It wasn't how Jack had hoped it would work out, but if this was how it was meant to be, then so be it.

"Did you take a test, Baby? Is it too soon?"

She almost collapsed in his arms.

"Teri, what's wrong?"

"I thought...I thought you'd be mad. I thought you'd be...I thought...I don't know what I thought."

"I don't understand," Jack said. "You thought what? Why would I be mad?"

"I thought," she began again. "I thought that you'd..." She wasn't making sense and she knew it, so she stopped talking.

Jack got her into a chair and looked at her closely. "Teri, tell me what you're thinking. Why would I be mad?" He was clearly upset.

She was silent. Then she spoke haltingly. "I thought you'd question it. Why wasn't I more careful. How could I let this happen. That you wouldn't want this. That you'd..." Her voice trailed off.

"Teri, what?" He had to know what she was thinking.

"That you'd...that you wouldn't want anything to do with me. That you'd be overwhelmed, would realize that this is impossible. We can't do this, Jack. We're too young. We can't have a baby now, not without giving up everything we want, everything we want to do with our lives. I thought...I thought you'd feel that way, too."

He was stunned. It had never occurred to him, would never have occurred to him. That he wouldn't stand by her, wouldn't be there for her?

"Teri, I..." He swallowed hard. "Is this what you think? That I wouldn't be here for you? With you? I can't believe it. I love you. You know I love you. What are you saying?"

"Oh, Jack, I don't know what I'm saying. I'm...I'm...I don't know what I'm saying. I'm afraid, Jack. I'm just afraid."

"This is crazy. Don't be afraid, Teri. Don't ever be. Of course I'm always going to be with you, here for you, no matter what. Teri, I can't believe this, I can't believe you're thinking this. I love you, and I always will, no matter what. We'll work this out. You're pregnant, you may be pregnant, and we're talking about something idiotic. What's important is that you're having a baby, we're having a baby, and we're going to get married. The most important thing is that we love each other."

"I'll always be here, Sweetheart. I'd never leave you, I'll never leave you. We're going to be together forever. That's what we want, isn't it? To be together? Isn't that what we've been saying? So why are we talking about something stupid? Let's talk about something real. We're having a baby, Teri." He broke into the biggest smile of his life. He was terrified, but happier than he'd ever been. They'd always be together. He'd always be with the woman he loved. There wasn't a damn thing her parents could do about it.

"Teri, do your folks know?" he asked, sure of the answer. He knew she wouldn't be there, sitting with him, if they knew. His father would have shot him by now if she'd told him. He'd have to lie low as it was, at least until after they were married. Surely he wouldn't want to make his only daughter a widow.

"Of course not, Jack. My father'd kill me. Or you. Probably you, and they'd send me away, and make me give the baby up for adoption." He knew Teri's parents didn't believe in abortion. But they couldn't control things once he and Teri were married.

"The important thing is to set the date, Sweetheart. I want to let my folks know. I'd like them to be there, I'm sure they'll be happy for us, supportive. Is that okay? Will that upset you, if your parents aren't there? 'Cause if it will, my folks will understand. They're like that. But we have to get married soon. Before your parents can find out."

Teri broke into wails. Jack said, "Teri, what is it? Did I say something? Is it your parents? Teri, talk to me. What is it?"

She couldn't talk right away. After deep gulps of air she finally managed to get words out. "It's because we have to get married, Jack. We have to. Not because we want to, not yet, not because we've decided to now, but because we have to. My God, how could this have happened? How could I have let this happen?"

Her sobs were wracking her body, and Jack could barely hold her in his arms. "Teri," he said softly, "it wasn't something you let happen. We always used protection, but obviously it failed. It wasn't your fault, it wasn't my fault. We didn't plan this, it just happened. The only thing that matters is that we love each other. Teri, we talked about getting married, we decided to get married and have kids. It's just earlier than we planned. We'll work it out, Sweetheart. Lots of couples go through school with kids. We'll be able to do it, too. We'll do it together, Baby. Together we can do this."

His voice and his words soothed her a little, but she was still visibly upset. "But how will we live, Jack? You can't drop out of school. What will we live on?"

"I'll get another job, Ter. I have enough free time. Besides, we won't have to take time for coffee during the day, and I can work on Thursday nights now." He said this with a smile.

Despite herself Teri smiled. "If you're sure..." she said, her voice drifting off. "And of course I think your parents should be there. They're wonderful. I just wish my parents were like that." Her voice was so wistful, so hurt, that Jack's heart hurt for her.

Chapter 14

Jack awoke with a start, and as he headed for the door he slowly realized that the knocking must have been going on for some time. He looked out the peephole and saw a strange woman standing there, and his thoughts immediately turned to Laura Gaines. This woman appeared to be about the same age.

He called to the woman that he'd just be a minute and retrieved his gun from the drawer in the nearby desk before he checked the chain on the door and opened the door slightly. "May I help you?" he asked politely, but he was holding the gun in the hand she couldn't see.

"Mr. Bauer?" she asked. "I'm Lucy Gannett. I'm a friend of Kim's. May I come in?"

Jack had never heard the name, but he immediately saw that Lori Gannett and Laura Gaines shared the same initials.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Gannett. Kim never mentioned you. What is this about?" He didn't open the door any wider.

"Kim asked me to check on you. She told me you haven't been feeling well."

Jack knew something was up. Not only hadn't he heard of Lucy Gannett, but he knew that Kim would never ask anyone to 'check' on him. No, something was wrong here. He'd already removed the safety on his weapon; now he surreptitiously and he hoped quietly loaded one in the 'pipe.'

"Ms. Gannett, thanks but no thanks. I'm fine, and I don't need 'checking up on.' I'm busy, and I'll tell Kim you stopped by. I'm sorry you made the trip for nothing, but if you'll excuse me now I have work to do."

He started to close the door, but before he could a man Jack hadn't seen forced his way into the house and punched Jack in the face. Unconsciousness followed.

Chapter 15

When he came to he was trussed up on the cold concrete floor, his head splitting, his new heart pounding, sweat pouring down his face. His first thought was, 'Sh!t, I'm too old for this.'

Again, there was a woman standing over him, and again, it was Laura Gaines. "My, my, Mr. Bauer," she said sarcastically. "You do insist on making this difficult."

"What the hell do you want, Ms. Gaines? I don't know anything about money. I told you that." As angry as he was, he was even more weary. Deja vu was not his favorite feeling.

"I don't believe you, Jack. Just tell me where the money is and this'll all be over, and I won't bother you again. So make it easy on yourself and give it up. That's all I want. Unless you enjoy pain. And I'm running out of patience."

"How much more plainly can I say this? I don't know anything about the damn money. Whatever financial dealings your father had, I was only involved with the assassination attempt on Palmer, not what your father was being paid to arrange it. I'm not the person to ask."

Another woman walked in. Lucy Gannett. Laura said, "This is my sister, Jack, Lucy. Gaines, of course, not Gannett, but I think you figured that out. My twin. And she wants the money as badly as I do. So cut the crap and we'll let you go."

Jack lost it. "What the fck will it take to convince you? If you look at the way I'm living, how I've lived all these years, does it look like I've got money stashed away? I'm living on a pension, for God's sake. Does my house look like a mansion?"

"You're a very careful man, Jack. You wouldn't spend the money openly, a lot at a time. You may have squirreled it away to leave for your daughter. We sent you a cashmere sweater, with a toxin on it to knock you out so we wouldn't have to grab you in the open, but you had it dry-cleaned before you wore it. That meant we had to send men to kidnap you. You're very cautious. You hid the money, and we want it. It's as simple as that."

Jack was taken aback. His instincts had been right; there had been a problem with the sweater, but he had disregarded his gut feeling, hadn't taken the sweater to CTU for testing, for analysis. Had he found out about the toxin they'd have given him protection, maybe prevented everything that had happened to him, maybe even found Laura Gaines and her sister.

Jack cursed silently. To Laura he said, "What do I have to do to convince you I don't have any of this fcking money?

Chapter 16

They left him then, still tied up, and his old joints protested continuously. His body had been through so much that even a new heart couldn't heal all of the wounds and insults it had taken over the years. But he forced his mind to focus on the problem beyond the immediate one of escape, which currently seemed impossible: trying to figure out whether Ira Gaines had, in fact, secreted money that his daughters were now so intent on getting. There was another question after that one to answer, too: why would they think that he knew where the money was?

Instead of solving the problems, though, fatigue took over and he fell asleep, his age and weakened physical condition making him unable to fight off the exhaustion his physical circumstances were costing him. He fought to stay awake, not wanting to miss any chance to get away, but it was a losing battle. Age won out, and as his sleep deepened Jack began again to dream.

Chapter 17

While Jack's parents weren't exactly overjoyed by the news, not that Jack expected them to be, for he realized that he and Teri were young, younger than he'd wanted to undertake parenthood, Janet and Mark Bauer supported their son completely. This was something that Jack had known they would do.

The test confirmed Teri's pregnancy, and the visit to the doctor reassured all the Bauers that things were fine. The baby was due in 7-1/2 months, more than enough time to get ready, and fortuitously would be born right after finals. They would have the entire summer to adjust, and UCLA had childcare for babies two months and older available for students, so Teri and Jack would be able to continue in school.

Jack got a job in construction, hard, outside work that started at 7 in the morning and ended at 3 p.m. so he was able to register for fall semester classes beginning in September that started at 4 in the afternoon with the rest of his credits in the evening. The pay was good, and would be enough to support his family. Teri worried that he wouldn't be able to do both, work and school, but Jack assured her that he would manage. With his determination, he was confident that he could.

Jack's parents offered to help them, but Jack with typical stubbornness and growing maturity declined. He could do this, he would do this, and without their assistance. Not that he resented their offer, not by any means: he was determined to take care of his family, although both he and Teri were immensely grateful that they had the love and support of Colonel and Mrs. Bauer, especially in case anything went wrong.

They were all concerned about Teri's parents. They had done everything to keep Jack and Teri apart, and none of the Bauers believed that the Wilkersons had given up, even without them having an inkling about the baby. Teri and Jack moved in with the Bauers at Janet and Mark's insistence, and although they were all uncomfortable with the feeling that they were somehow deceiving her parents it was deemed necessary for her well-being. Teri couldn't be subjected to her parents' – especially her father's – verbal onslaughts and intimidation. And under the circumstances, she and Jack needed to be together.

In deference to Jack's parents he and Teri offered to sleep in separate rooms, something that bemused Colonel and Mrs. Bauer who apreciated the gesture, imagining Jack creeping around the hallway at night, and being sure to be back in his own bed before dawn. They told them with a smile that, under the circumstances, the young couple could stay together.

Jack and Teri found a small two-bedroom apartment not far from campus, near a bus stop so Jack could get to work and Teri could drive to campus and drop the baby at day care before going to class, and then meet Jack at home so he could go to school. With his dad's help Jack painted the place, doing the nursery in pale yellows, Teri telling him that they could add splashes of blue or pink accents after the baby was born.

The other bright spot was planning the wedding. But it wasn't unremitting joy.

Chapter 18

Teri had refused to communicate with her parents, even, especially, to tell them she was going to have a baby, so they knew nothing of the upcoming nuptials. She cried a lot, partly because of hormonal changes brought on by the pregnancy, but mostly because of her parents' unbelievable attitude. Teri, who truly knew and understood her parents' personalities but who had nevertheless been shocked by their values, refused to have anything to do with them. For their part, Dr. and Mr. Wilkerson harassed Teri's roommate Gail for information about Teri's whereabouts. They went so far as to call the police, but because Teri was an adult, over 18, they refused to get involved.

When the Wilkersons showed up at the Bauers' house Jack opened the door. "Where is she, Bauer?" Mr. Wilkerson demanded, trying to shove him away so he could enter. "Where's Teri?"

Colonel Bauer appeared behind his son. "Who are you?" he asked angrily, although of course he knew who the belligerent man was.

"I'm William Wilkerson," he angrily answered. "Teri's father. The girl your son raped and kidnapped."

Mark Bauer clenched his fist. "Get out of here, Wilkerson. And say anything like that about Jack again and you'll regret it."

"Yeah?" Wilkerson replied. "I want my daughter, or I'm calling the police. And pressing charges against you, too. You're harboring a criminal."

"Get out!" Mark ordered, sounding like the Colonel he was. "Now! Or I'm calling the police myself."

"Bill, this isn't accomplishing anything," Gloria Wilkerson told her husband, tugging on his arm, which he sharply pulled away. Instead, he tried to shove his way past Jack and Mark.

Teri stepped forward. "Dad, stop it. I want you to leave. You and Mom. No one's hurt me, no one's kidnapped me. I'm here because I want to be. The Bauers are wonderful. They're treating me like their daughter, the way you should be. I don't ever want to see you again. So leave, just leave."

Gloria Wilkerson started to go to her daughter, but Jack stepped in front of her. He spoke softly, his voice surprisingly calm. "Please, Dr. Wilkerson, listen to Teri. She's very upset. Give her time. I promise to talk to her. When things calm down maybe she'll change her mind. But you have to give her time. My parents are happy to have her here, she's happy here, and she's welcome to stay as long as she wants. So please, just give her some time."

Instead of placating them this just made Bill Wilkerson madder. He lunged for Jack, and before Mark could react he punched Jack and knocked him to the floor. Instantly, he was on top of him, landing punch after punch. Jack tried to protect himself, but he didn't want to hit Teri's father, so he fought his instinct to fight back. After a few of Wilkerson's blows landed Colonel Bauer was able to pull him off.

"If you don't get out now, I'll have you charged with assault," Mark said. "So unless you want to go to prison you'll leave now." His voice was low and menacing.

Teri was sobbing and Janet Bauer was holding her, trying to calm her. Gloria Wilkerson understood what this was doing to her daughter and she pulled on her husband's arm, telling him that this was hurting Teri, making things worse, that they had to go. Finally, Bill Wilkerson shook off her hand and stood there, glaring at Jack and Mark.

"This isn't over, Bauer. I want my daughter out of here."

He spoke directly to Teri. "You're coming home, Teri. Now."

"No, Dad, I'm not. Look at the way you've acted, what you did to Jack. I never want to see you or Mom again." She was still crying, tears running down her face, inconsolable in Janet's arms, her voice and body shaking.

Bill Wilkerson stood there, still in a rage, but he didn't know what else to do. Even violence hadn't worked. He was at a loss.

"This isn't over," he repeated, and the Bauers and Teri knew he meant it. But he and

Gloria Wilkerson left.

Chapter 19

Teri was inconsolable, and Jack and his parents feared for her as well as the baby. That the Wilkersons could act like that, be so foreign, so alien, to everything she knew was a total shock to her; it was as though she had grown up with strangers, and her identity was shaken. It wasn't changes brought about by the pregnancy, it was a total loss of faith in who she was.

She couldn't go to classes at first, and although Jack wanted to stay home with her she insisted he go. He did stay with her for the first few days despite what she said, his stubbornness kicking in, although Janet was there, too; finally he relented and went back to school, but his concentration was gone. It was her realization that Jack's course work was suffering that helped Teri get her wits about her. She loved him too much to see his future disappear.

"Jack, I'm feeling better," she told him one afternoon when he returned from classes. "I really am. I think I'll go back tomorrow."

He looked at her closely. She was still pale and drawn, and obviously shaky. He correctly perceived why she was telling him this.

"Sweetheart, I think maybe you should give it a few more days. Gail gave you your assignments, and you have your computer programs to keep up with your design work, so why don't you just concentrate on that? I think it'll do you good. You need more rest." She hadn't been sleeping well, which was no surprise.

She dug in her heels. It wouldn't be the first time. She and Jack were well-matched when it came to stubbornness.

"Jack, listen to me. I'm a grown woman who's about to become a mother, and I think I can decide if I can go to school. I'm going back to class tomorrow, so that's it. Your mother's made dinner, and after that I have some assignments to finish, and I'm sure you do, too. So please stop arguing with me, and let's go eat."

Jack knew when to throw in the towel; he was clearly not going to win this one. With an inward sigh he headed for the dining room.

Chapter 20

Jack awoke on the concrete floor but the restraints had been removed, and the only sound seemed to come from the painful stretching of his joints. He was alone, wherever he was. And he seemed free to go.

Nevertheless he was quiet as he carefully pushed himself up on all-fours, finally managing to stand, holding onto the wall for support, and he silently made his way to the door, which to his surprise was unlocked. He looked around carefully at the empty house he had been brought to and made his way towards the front door, peering out the window before he opened the door. To his surprise his car stood at the curb, and when he got into the SUV he saw that the keys were in the ignition. As he pulled the seat belt around him he realized he was wearing the gray sweater.

Chapter 21

Jack wasn't even sure if he should call Tony when he got home, he wasn't sure if he had imagined the whole thing, but the cuts on his wrists from the ropes he'd been tied with told him it had been real. Tony was at the townhouse in minutes together with a protection team from CTU, and with the agents in place Tony took the sweater back with him for analysis. But neither he nor Jack thought it would show anything. It was too late for that.

None of it made sense the men agreed, surely the women hadn't been convinced by anything Jack had said that he had no knowledge of money. Then why had they let him go? They had clearly gone to a lot of effort, taken a lot of risk to abduct him not once but twice, to merely abandon their plan; people had died because of their determination to recover what they were sure was their father's fortune. Letting Jack go just didn't add up. Clearly he was still in danger.

Tony was mad at himself. He had removed Jack's protective detail too early after the first abduction, yet how long could he keep agents in place? His budget was tight, it was always tight, and he had to justify his actions not only financially but in terms of reducing the manpower available for other activities, field operations, essential missions. Jack was his friend, had saved his life more than once and Tony wanted to protect him, but he couldn't keep agents to guard Jack indefinitely. Yet there was no way to know when the danger to Jack had passed, or even if it had.

Jack had refused to call Kim for he knew he would scare the hell out of his daughter if she knew what had happened and there was nothing she could possibly do about it, but he had no qualms about calling Dr. Logan. He went to see him the next day, after spending a restless night. He was clearly agitated, upset, and he was very tired when he drove to Logan's office.

Logan, in turn, was shaken by Jack's experience. He knew it would re-activate the PTSD that Jack was working so hard to deal with, and Dr. Logan wasn't at all certain of the consequences of Jack's struggle to regain his mental health. This might tip the balance against him. The brightest spot was that Jack had immediately called him. The downside, a huge one, was that he hadn't told him on the phone what had happened; if he had, Logan would have insisted on seeing him immediately, might have suggested hospitalization, certainly sedation. He definitely wouldn't have wanted Jack to spend the night alone.

He told all this to Jack; he'd never pulled punches with him. "Jack, why didn't you tell me yesterday what happened? Why did you just ask for an appointment?" The doctor was not only genuinely puzzled; he wanted Jack to seriously consider the answer. It would be significant, for it would say a lot about where Jack's head was.

"I'm...I'm not sure," Jack allowed, answering slowly as he thought it through. "The whole thing seemed so unreal, I wasn't even sure whether it happened until I saw the rope burns. That's when I knew I had to call Tony, 'cause I realized the danger I was in. But I guess I was only thinking of physical danger, not mental. Not until afterwards, and then I don't think I thought that was immediate. I know I'm upset about it, but I don't think I'm in any danger. Not the way you mean, anyway."

The doctor wasn't pleased by Jack's response, for he wanted his patient's mental health to be one of his paramount concerns. He knew it couldn't be his only worry, for he really was in physical danger, and Dr. Logan hadn't realized the imminence of it before, although he knew of the prior abduction, of course; he just thought it was over, a thing of the past. He thought Jack had thought so, too, and he was right.

"Jack, we really have to talk about this, the consequences to you emotionally. You know PTSD is still a factor, a big risk, in fact, and it always will be, it'll never fully go away. Things like this can certainly trigger it. We discussed that even everyday things can cause it to surface, and we weren't even considering something traumatic like being kidnapped. It's important that you tell me how you're feeling."

"I...I'm not sure," Jack admitted. "I know I'm scared, mostly because of the way they let me go. It doesn't make sense, their just giving up like that. I'm sure they didn't just give up. They're sure I know something, but I don't. I don't know anything about Ira Gaines' money. I was never involved in tracing money, 'cause it wasn't a factor, and I don't think anyone at CTU went after it. We knew that the Drazens were behind Teri and Kim's kidnapping because they wanted revenge, and they hired Gaines to grab them. We didn't care how much he was paid, because it just didn't matter, so we never pursued it. We just assumed it was the Drazens."

He paused. "Obviously Gaines' daughters don't believe that, or they wouldn't think that I know something. But even if Drazen was behind the payments – why would they think I had the money, or even knew something about it? It just doen't make sense," he said, shaking his head, finding that it hurt. It must have been because of the way they grabbed me, he thought. It didn't occur to him that they might have aggravated the areas that had been affected by the electro-shock therapy, and he didn't think to mention it to Dr. Logan.

What he said, though, did make some sense to him in a way, and Jack realized what he had to do. If he was to get himself out of this, take himself out of danger, he would have to follow the money. He would have to find out what had happened to it. Only then would he be safe from Laura and Lucy Gaines.

Chapter 22

He didn't remember when he had felt so drained, and after he let himself into the house he grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator and headed straight for his recliner. After a deep drink he leaned his head back and closed his eyes, wondering how much more of this he could take. His head was pounding and his body hurt and he was spent, his energy gone. Emotionally he was out of it, he wanted and needed to be out of it, all the mysteries and missions and physical challenges, and he knew he didn't have the strength for more. But they wouldn't leave him alone. They just wouldn't let him be.

As he drank more water he tried to will himself to sleep, to dream of Teri, of the past when things had been good, or at least had turned out that way when he was young, when they were innocent, hopeful, didn't yet know how life could turn on them. But this time sleep wouldn't come. He sat in the fading daylight and wondered how he could face re-opening an investigation that had been closed so many years before, re-open the case that had been the most painful time of his life.

Chapter 23

Tony wasn't entirely surprised by Jack's call the next morning. He'd been thinking along the same lines, that they had to trace the money that Gaines had been paid if they were ever going to eliminate the danger Jack was in. So a visitor's badge was waiting for Jack when he got to CTU.

It had been quite awhile since he'd been there, more than just a few years, so all the faces were new to him, but everyone at CTU knew Jack. Knew of him, more precisely, for Jack was legion, not only among the younger agents but to the entire American people for all that he had done, at least the missions that had been made public, and those had stunned and amazed everyone. Most of the field operatives at CTU idolized him. A few, a very few privately doubted whether all of the reports of his derring-do could possibly be true; had they known that not only were they all real but that there were still others, some even more amazing, of which they'd never heard, they'd have been even more awe-struck than the already true believers.

Jack, of course, had never thought himself to be anyone special; to the contrary, as he was beginning to understand with the help of Dr. Logan, he had always felt he had to prove himself. Anyone else learning of this would have thought it was an incredibly bad joke.

CTU itself had gone through another make-over since Jack had last been there but the general lay-out was still the same, so Jack had no trouble making his way to Tony's office. He was pleased that the place seemed so comfortable and familiar to him; it would always be a constancy in his life, and that was right. It had been his life for so very long.

Jack paused for a moment in the doorway to Tony's office before he said, "Hi, Tony."

Tony looked up from his computer and waved his friend in. "'Morning, Jack. Want some coffee?"

"Sure," Jack replied. "Decaf, though, Tony. Doctor's orders."

"Me, too," Tony replied with a smile. "Doc says I can't have stimulants. Like CTU is a calm and soothing place to work."

The two men laughed as they sat companionably at Tony's conference table, where Tony indicated several large file boxes. "I have the tech people making print-outs of whatever data still exists, but there're gonna be a lot of holes, Jack. I don't have to tell you how long it's been."

"I know, Tony. But there's no place else to start."

"Yeah," Tony replied. "But I was really junior then, so I wasn't in on much of it. I'm sure you remember that?" There was a faint hint of sarcasm, a gentle jab.

"Yeah, I remember," Jack said. "You were under Nina." When he realized what he had said a soft 'sh!t' followed.

Both men laughed softly. They turned to the boxes. There was little talk for the next few hours.

Chapter 24

"It can't be, Jack, it just can't be!" Tony said, his posture belying his weariness. He was sitting up so straight he might have been a raw recruit at Parris Island.

"What else could it be, Tony?" Jack asked, although he was equally stunned. "I don't believe it, either, but it fits."

"But why, Jack? Why would he have done this? Taken a chance like this? For what?"

"I don't know," Jack replied, his own exhaustion evident. He felt, and looked, like he'd been hit by a truck, and it wasn't just from working. It was from betrayal.

"Why would Palmer pay Gaines? I mean, Gaines was working for Drazen, right? And Drazen wanted you to kill Palmer. So why would Palmer pay Gaines to help Drazen kill him?"

"I don't know, Tony," Jack repeated, "but that's what all this shows. It doesn't make any sense, it's one of the weirdest and wildest things I've ever seen, but it's there. Why nobody saw it before is beyond me, but I guess it's because nobody looked." He paused and looked at Tony. "Why would anyone?"

Tony stood and stretched. "There's gotta be something else, Jack. Either we've missed it, or we don't have it. This documentation is too spotty. We're missing years of records. I'm gonna have the tech people go through everything again. There's gotta be stuff we're missing."

Jack stood, too and headed for the coffee machine, which was empty for the second time that day. He was glad there was none left. His stomach was roiling, and his head was throbbing.

He had an idea. "Tony, who's your best forensic accountant? We need a pro to follow the money trail. Maybe it's a red herring, something thrown together to make it look like Palmer was bankrolling Gaines. I mean, we know the Drazens had millions, hundreds of millions, and maybe they cooked the books to make it look like Palmer was paying Gaines."

He paused, his mind racing. "Maybe that's why Gaines' daughters think he had money. Ryan was the best there was at tracing money, but that Ted Cofell was a pro at it, maybe he did it. But even that doesn't make sense," he added thoughtfully. "Why go to the bother? With Drazen having Palmer killed, who would have followed a money trail from Palmer to Gaines? No one would have suspected Palmer. What difference would it make who paid Gaines? It just doesn't make any sense." His voice trailed off.

Tony had no answers, he was too tired to even come up with more questions. The men were beyond exhaustion. It was time for them to go home, time to rest their bodies and their minds. They knew they were both having 'brain sprains.'

"Jack, let's pick this up tomorrow," Tony suggested wearily. "C'mon, I'll have O'Reilly drive you home." O'Reilly was one of the agents assigned to protect Jack.

"I have my car here, Tony, thanks. I'll drive myself."

"Jack, don't be stubborn. You're tired. O'Reilly can take you home, and whoever's on in the morning'll drive you back. You can take your car home tomorrow night."

Jack acknowledged to himself that it made sense; he knew he would more than likely fall asleep behind the wheel, he was that tired. As he headed for the door he turned. "Thanks, Tony. For everything. I know this is biting into your time, but this thing has me scared."

Tony was taken aback. He'd never before heard Jack say he was afraid of anything, and he'd never thought he would.

Chapter 25

His faith in everything he had known was shaken. He had trusted Palmer, had grown to love him as a brother, and his discoveries that day felt like the ultimate betrayal, not just of his trust, but of all his instincts, his faith in himself, what made Jack Jack. He tried to sleep, but it just wouldn't come. He tossed and turned, hoping to doze off, to shake the feeling of loss that had come over him, coupled with resignation, no, more than that, despair that the emotional progress he had made was a shadow that he could no sooner grasp than a cloud. And a cloud it was, dark, ominous, portending a storm of trouble, a potential whirlwind with a vortex that would suck him in to a deep place from which he could never fight his way. He knew his strength was gone, both mental and physical, and his desperate need for release from his past was beyond his reach. Even sleep, he knew, wouldn't set him free.

He gave up with the thought that just giving up had always been alien to him and he grabbed a beer, a crutch he knew, but something he needed to try to calm himself and bring on a state of nothingness, something to set him free from his emptiness. Drugs weren't an option, hadn't been since he'd gotten clean so many years before, he didn't even crave them anymore, and that had been an immense source of pride, but now nothing seemed to be. He couldn't shake his past, and the existence of the PTSD now hit him harder than ever. His past would always be with him to haunt him, even when there was nothing he could do about it, and he was powerless against it, as the danger posed by Gaines' daughters showed.

Despair settled over him like a blanket, a burial shroud, and he relinquished himself, his will, the ultimate surrender. He no longer cared, for he felt there was nothing to care about. He lacked the strength to call the doctor, he felt unworthy of asking for help. He couldn't even cry.

Chapter 26

The daylight woke him, the dim light of an overcast day, the lack of sunshine matching his mood, but it was still better than the utter despair that had enveloped him in the darkness of the night before. With a will that matched any he'd ever called on before he managed to reach for the phone and call Dr. Logan. The physician was at his house within minutes.

He was shocked at Jack's appearance. "Jack, what happened? When I saw you Tuesday, just two days ago, you weren't like this. Tell me what happened."

"I – It's useless," Jack replied, sounding more dejected than the doctor had ever heard.

"What's useless, Jack?"

"Everything. No matter what I do, it's always there."

The generalities were new to the doctor. Jack had never before had difficulty getting down to the meat of something, honing in on an issue; this was a different Jack than he'd dealt with. Something serious was going on.

"Jack, what is it? Has something happened since we last spoke? I mean, has there been another attack on you, another attempt?"

"No," Jack allowed. "No one's tried to grab me again, if that's what you mean. It's just –" His voice trailed off.

"What did you do yesterday? Anything special?"

"I went to CTU. I met with Tony Almeida, and we went over some old files. We're trying to trace through the Gaines thing, to find out whether there's a money trail."

It clicked. Logan said gently, "That's the file for the day when Teri died, isn't it? That same day?"

Jack looked at his feet. Finally he whispered, "Yes. It was that day."

"Jack, it's triggering the PTSD. Just when you thought you were dealing with everything, coming to grips with Teri's death, it bit you from another angle. Gaines, and the money. You were sorting everything out, Drazen and the attack, Teri and Kim's kidnapping, and now you find out that there's another element. I think that's why you're feeling like this now."

Jack was silent again. Then he spoke, still in a whisper. "No, there's more than that. It's Palmer. We found out that – we – the file shows that David Palmer paid Gaines to kidnap Teri and Kim. He was behind the whole thing, even the attempt on his own life. It doesn't make sense, none of it does. And I trusted him! I did everything I could to save him, and that's when Teri died! It was because of Palmer, and Teri died! That bstard!"

Jack started to cry, and all Logan could do was look on in shock.

Chapter 27

The pills Logan insisted Jack take kicked in, and he fell into what the doctor hoped would be deep and dreamless sleep. Instead, Jack's subconscious took over, and he was back in another, terribly stressful time of his life.

They wouldn't give up, and when the Wilkersons descended on the Bauers' house it was worse than the first time. Mark and Janet were expecting friends for dinner so when he opened the door to see Bill and Gloria standing there Mark was totally surprised.

"Um, Mr. Wilkerson, what do you want?" he asked warily, hoping there wouldn't be another scene.

Wilkerson pushed past him. "Where is she? Where's my daughter?"

"She's not here," Mark replied, anger setting in. "Now get out of my house, Mr. Wilkerson. You're not welcome. Please, Dr. Wilkerson," he said, turning to her, saying more politely, "I have to ask you and your husband to leave. I don't want any more trouble."

Janet walked into the room, thinking her guests had arrived. She, too, was shocked to see Teri's parents.

"Oh," she said. "What's going on?"

"We want our daughter. Where is she?" Wilkerson demanded.

"She's at school," Janet responded. "She has classes all day."

"And where's your kidnapper son?" Wilkerson asked with a sneer. "I want to talk to him."

"Jack's not a kidnapper, and he's not here," Mark snapped. "I demand that you leave now, or I will call the police. I mean it."

"Go ahead, call the damn cops, I don't care. When they hear you're involved in a kidnapping you'll be the ones they arrest. In fact, I'll call them myself." He took out his cell phone and called '911' just as Jack walked in.

"Dr. Wilkerson. Mr. Wilkerson," he said with surprise as he came through the door. "Why are you here? Has something happened to Teri?" He was suddenly fearful.

"You're what happened to Teri, you little bstard!" Wilkerson yelled. "Where's my daughter? What have you done to her?"

"I haven't done anything to her," Jack said furiously. "She's fine. She just doesn't want to see you. She's happy here, and she's staying here. She's a grown woman, an adult, and she can decide where she lives. So why don't you just leave her alone? All you're doing is hurting her. Can't you see that?"

"You're the one who's hurting her, you little sh!t. I'm taking her home, and if you try to stop me it's the last thing you'll do. So you tell me where she is right now, or I'll have the cops throw you in jail.,"

They were all glaring at each other, fists clenched, ready to go at each other when the police walked in, followed by Teri. She had recognized her mother's car outside, and as she ran in she was crying.

"What's going on here, folks?" asked one of the officers. "What's the problem?"

"This bstard kidnapped my daughter, and his parents are keeping her here against her will," Wilkerson said with fury. "I demand that you arrest them!"

"No one kidnapped me, and I'm staying here because I want to," Teri said, sounding both hysterical and angry, going to stand with Jack who put his arm around her protectively. "I'm 19, and my parents are trying to control me. They can't do that, can they, Officer? I mean, I'm an adult, and they can't tell me where to live anymore. Can they?"

"No, Miss, they can't, not so long as you're over 17. Is she, Ma'am?" he asked Teri's mother.

"Yes," Gloria Wilkerson confirmed. "She's 19."

"Then there's nothing we can do here, Sir," he told Wilkerson. "So you folks'd better leave. No crime's been committed here, and if these people don't want you here you have no right to stay. We'll walk you to your car," the cop said, trying to move the Wilkersons toward the door, "and I think it's a good idea if you leave them alone. If this is where your daughter wants to live, that's her decision. There's nothing you can do about it."

Bill Wilkerson looked as pugnacious as ever, but he knew he couldn't win. Not this time, at least.

Chapter 28

Round 3 took place a scant 3 days later, after Dr. Wilkerson was making rounds seeing her patients at the hospital and she saw Teri and Jack leaving the obstetrician's office there. The shock on Gloria's face told them that what had happened before was a picnic compared to the reaction they would get once Bill Wilkerson heard the news.

They were right. Scant hours later Wilkerson literally broke the Bauers' door down with his shoulder, bursting into the living room, his face so red he looked like he'd have a stroke on the spot. "You fcking bstard!" he said, running at Jack, who was sitting with his father at the chessboard. Instantly he had his hands around Jack's throat, choking him until Jack brought his knee up and caught Teri's father smack in the crotch. Bill went down hard.

"Oh, my God!" Teri screamed, running in from the dining room where'd she'd been working on her laptop. "Daddy! Jack!"

Mark was tending to Jack, whose neck was bruising fast, and who was gasping for breath from the pressure of Wilkerson's hands on his throat. Janet ran to the kitchen to get ice to try to keep down the swelling.

When Mark saw that Jack was breathing all right he turned his attention to Bill, who was writhing in pain. Gloria was kneeling next to him.

"How dare you!" she turned to yell at Jack. "You son of a b!tch!" She yelled at Janet, "Get ice for him!"

"You come in here like this and assault my son and you call my son a son of a b!tch?" Janet yelled back at her. "Get out! Get out!"

"Don't you dare yell at my wife! Your bstard son raped my daughter! He raped her!" He was yelling at Janet. "Maybe the cops won't do anything about the kidnapping, but they'll sure as hell arrest a rapist." He turned to Jack. "You're lucky I don't choke the sh!t of you, you little fck. I'll let the cops handle it. You raped my Baby, you little sh!t!" The agony was evident in his voice, but it made it no less menacing. "I ought to kill you!"

Wilkerson tried to get up to lunge for Jack, but Mark easily forced him down with a well-placed foot to his groin. It wasn't a hard kick, it was just enough to an already very sore area of his anatomy to do the job.

There was the sound of people on the steps outside and Janet headed for the broken door, wondering how she was going to explain the scene to her dinner guests. Instead, it was the police.

"We got a report of a disturbance," one of the cops said, peering over her shoulder. "It looks like they were right." Visible beyond Janet were Bill on the floor, writhing in pain, and Jack just beyond him, ice pressed to his throat.

"What's going on?" the other cop asked as they walked past Janet. "Who lives here?"

"We do," Mark answered, indicating Jack, Teri and Janet as well as himself. "These," he said, pointing to Gloria and Bill, "are the young lady's parents."

"Looks like there was quite a fight here," the first officer said. "Who started it?"

"He did!" Wilkerson yelped from the floor, pointing shakily to Jack. "He jumped me! After he raped my daughter!"

"Whoa there!" said the second cop. "He raped her? When?"

"Six or seven weeks ago! She's pregnant!"

"She just told you she was raped?" the cop asked.

"No. I mean yes. I mean – no. We just found out she's pregnant. So of course she was raped. The bstard wouldn't let her tell us 'til now."

"How'd he stop her? I don't understand."

"He kidnapped her. He's been keeping her here so she couldn't tell us, and these people – these people have been helping him."

"Who are you?" the cop asked Mark.

"My name is Mark Bauer, and this is my wife, Janet. This is our house. This is my son, Jack, and this is his fiancé, Teri, the Wilkersons' daughter. She wasn't kidnapped, and she wasn't raped. She's been living with us because her parents wouldn't let her out of their house, they tried to stop her from going to school. She's 19, Officer, and a student at UCLA. She can make her own choices. And Wilkerson, here, broke into my house and attacked my son. He just broke down the door and started choking Jack. He's the one who should be arrested."

"Miss, Teri, is it?" the cop said to her. "Is all this true? Are you living here voluntarily?"

"Yes," Teri answered, trying to control herself, for she had been crying throughout. "I'm living here because my parents were basically holding me prisoner. And of course I wasn't raped. Jack would never hurt me. We're - We're -" She was sobbing so hard she had trouble getting the words out. "We're getting married, and we're living here with his parents until we do. All I want is for my parents to leave us alone." Jack had managed to stand and was holding her tightly.

"Miss, Teri," the first cop said, "did this boy, er, this man, force you to have intimate relations against your will?"

Teri looked away from her parents as she answered, "No, of course not."

He asked another question. "Is he forcing you to stay here?"

"No," she responded through her tears. "I'm living here because my parents are trying to make me stay with them at home."

"Mister," the cop said wearily to Wilkerson. "Your daughter is of age. There's been no rape, no abduction, no imprisonment, no crime. Period." He paused. "Wait. There was a crime. You're trying to imprison your daughter who's an adult, you broke in here, and you assaulted this kid. You're under arrest. Hands behind your back, please."

"No!" Teri wailed. No! Jack!"

Chapter 29

Teri went to stand with her mother as her father was led from the house in handcuffs, grasping her mother's hand tightly, and then she started to leave with Gloria to follow the police car to the station house. Jack tried to go with her, but Teri turned her back on him and walked out of the house with Dr. Wilkerson. Jack was shocked, and hurt. He didn't know what to do.

"Jack," Mark started after the police had left with Bill Wilkerson and Teri and Gloria had followed, and Jack stood frozen, watching Teri walk away from him, "she's upset. This whole evening has been a nightmare for all of us. Give her time to calm down, Son. And Jack, you didn't do anything wrong. You were right to defend yourself. I really think that idiot would have killed you."

"Dad's right, Jack. That man's a maniac. He would have choked you to death if you hadn't defended yourself. Teri'll see that, Sweetheart. She's upset," Janet continued, repeating what her husband had said. "Let her go with her mother."

Jack was confused. He wanted, needed, to be with Teri, and he didn't understand why she had walked out on him. He truly believed that he had done the right thing, the only thing, when he had defended himself, he knew his father was right, Wilkerson would have killed him if Jack hadn't kneed him. But Teri didn't see it that way. Teri had turned away from him, she'd gone back to her parents. My God, what could he do?

Chapter 30

He decided in an instant. "Mom, Dad, I'm going to the police station. I have to talk to Teri."

"I'm going with you, Jack," Mark said. "Janet, you'll have to talk to the Clarks, explain what happened."

"All right," Janet said. "For once, I'm glad they're late. They missed all this. I'll try to get them on the phone and then I'll meet you there."

Jack and Mark headed for the garage. The drive to the station house was silent, Jack thinking that Teri had abandoned him, blaming himself, not thinking that Teri could possibly be wrong, wondering how he could make it up to her, cursing himself for not simply having let her father choke him, or forcing him to release him some other way. There must have been something else I could have done, he thought. I didn't have to kick him in the crotch. I could have gotten him to stop by doing something else. Jack was abjectly miserable. He was desperately afraid he'd lost Teri.

Mark was deep in his own thoughts. He'd taught his son well, perhaps too well: he was never the aggressor, he knew how to defend himself, and he had a conscience. But when it came to Teri, to her father, well, that would be different, at least to Jack. Mark knew what Jack was thinking, and he knew that Jack was wrong, he'd done the right thing. But Mark knew that this was not the time to try to convince his son of it.

Gloria and Teri were sitting on a bench near the Sergeant's desk, crying, when Jack and Mark walked in. Gloria gave them a look of pure hatred when she saw them, and Teri wouldn't look at them. With tears streaming down her cheeks she stared at her hand curled in her lap, the other clenching her mother's.

"Teri," Jack crouched next to her. "Sweetheart, I'm sorry. This'll all get straightened out, you'll see. We're not going to press charges, so your Dad will be released. We'll do everything we can to get him out now."

"Thank you," she said, her voice muffled by the tears, but Jack heard a stiffness to her tone. It scared him. She'd never spoken like that to him.

"Ter," he tried again, "Baby, I love you. I'm sorry this happened, Baby I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt him, but he was choking me. I didn't know what else to do. It was like – like reflex. I'll apologize to him, I'll do whatever you want. But please don't shut me out, Ter. Please. Please, Baby." Jack was close to tears himself.

Teri didn't respond. She just squeezed her mother's hand tighter.

Chapter 31

As they'd promised Mark and Jack refused to press charges, so the police had no choice but to release Wilkerson. He walked out of lock-up within a half hour, as soon as the police processed the paperwork, although they were in no hurry to do it. They had two reasons to take their time. One, they hoped Wilkerson would calm down while he cooled his heels in the cell, and two, they disliked the man from the little time they'd spent with him. He'd been thoroughly obnoxious, ranting and raving, berating and cursing them, lying that Jack had been the aggressor although from their experience and perception they'd correctly deduced that Bill had started the melee. Nevertheless, after holding him as long as they could he was finally set free.

The police had told the Bauers to leave before they released Wilkerson, knowing that their presence there would only re-ignite the disorder, but Jack was adamant about not leaving Teri. She, however, still refused to speak to him, she wouldn't even look at him. She sat next to her mother, staring at her hands, tears streaming down her face, and Jack had never seen her look unhappier. He was terrified of what it meant.

Bill Wilkerson walked out of the holding area shortly after, rubbing his wrists and loaded for bear. Because of his surroundings and the proximity of the many cops for once he held his tongue and his temper and contented himself with a glare at the Bauers and a show of embracing his wife, and Teri. She let herself be enveloped in a hug with her mother and father, and then silently walked through the door with them, leaving Jack stunned.

Chapter 32

She wasn't at her dorm after that, of course, Jack hadn't expected her to be, and he wasn't surprised that she wasn't attending her classes, either. He knew that her parents would never let her take a call from him, and he was getting frantic. She was clearly under their control, their spell again; he was completely shut out. One thought terrified him: would they force Teri to have an abortion?

Chapter 33

Jack, Mark and Janet tried to reason it out, and Mark suggested they speak to their family lawyer. Ralph Perkins was sympathetic, but he could offer Jack no hope.

"Jack, Teri doesn't need your consent for an abortion. It's early enough in the pregnancy for her to do that if she wants to, and there's nothing you can do. I'm sorry.

Jack closed his eyes, but the pain overwhelmed him. He and Teri had discussed the Supreme Court decision, and Teri had been forceful in her approval of the Court's affirmation of a woman's right to choose what happened to her body. Jack had no doubt that she was susceptible to pressure from her parents, and if they told her to do this, she would have no moral qualms against submitting to the procedure to terminate her pregnancy. While he agreed with the idea of legalized abortion in principle, he was sick to his stomach at the thought of Teri terminating her pregnancy, and ran from the room.

The door barely muffled the sound of his retching, and his parents and their lawyer could only look helplessly at each other until he returned, his face puffy, his eyes red-rimmed.

After sipping the water that was offered to him Jack managed to say, "Mr. Perkins, what if she doesn't have an abortion? What if she has the baby and puts it up for adoption?"

"That's another story, Jack," the lawyer replied. "The baby can't be adopted without your consent. Teri can surrender her parental rights, but not yours. In order for an adoption to be legal, both parents must consent. If Teri gives up the baby but you don't, you can take custody. We'll go into court to find out where Teri is, so we can notify the authorities there that you won't agree to an adoption. But if Teri doesn't want to see you or talk to you we can't make her. Refusing consent for the adoption is all you can do."

They were all crestfallen, but it was a far better alternative than abortion. Janet and Mark could see how devastated their son was, for they knew how deeply he loved Teri, but their fear that he might lose his child and they their grandchild was alleviated, at least somewhat. That seemed to brighten Jack's mood, if only a little.

Jack signed the papers necessary for Ralph to get the court order and returned with his parents to their home. The ride from Ralph's office was very quiet.

Chapter 34

It turned out that Teri was living with an aunt and uncle in Oregon, the court had notified Ralph, and she was seeing an obstetrician there. To Jack's indescribable relief it seemed that Teri was not going to have an abortion; she was going to have the baby, and apparently give the baby up after it was born. The doctor had been notified that Jack was the baby's father, and that he would not consent to an adoption. In turn, Jack was told that Teri didn't want to see or hear from him, and he was miserable, seeing his whole life, his entire future, vanishing.

With strong prodding from his parents he continued in school, working hard to get his grades, which had slipped badly, up to their prior level, but he dropped out of his fraternity, for he now found it childish. He had no more interest in sophomoric antics and activities; he'd grown up a lot, and he found that he no longer had anything in common with boys – they weren't yet men – whose only interests seemed to be getting drunk and getting laid, not necessarily in that order. So he pretty much stuck to himself, working hard, saving his money, counting the days until the baby would be born, hoping that Teri would change her mind, that he would at least see her when she gave birth and that she would realize that they had something wonderful, miraculous in common to bring them back together.

He couldn't get that thought out of his mind, though: Teri surrendering the baby for adoption. Her baby. Their baby. The idea was so foreign to him, so alien, that he couldn't get his mind around it. She'd been so happy, so thrilled. How could she even consider giving up such a part of herself? Surely her parents couldn't have brainwashed her so. She was so independent, she was stubborn as hell – Jack knew that from personal experience. Bill Wilkerson was a moron, an as, an idiot. How could Teri be so influenced by him? And Gloria. Sure, she appeared more reasonable, but she'd obviously rushed to tell Bill that Teri was pregnant. She must have known how he'd react, what he'd do, so what did that say about her? She was as bad as her husband. And they were the ones who were controlling Teri.

Jack was living in hell. He'd never known he could love so much, he'd never dreamed that love could make you hurt physically, but he was in pain from it, he felt the pain and pressure in his chest whenever he thought of life without Teri, without their baby. And he felt hopeless, utterly, completely hopeless.

Chapter 35

As the days and months passed by Jack grew more fearful, only receiving periodic confirmation from the lawyer that Teri was still in Oregon, for he knew nothing of the progress of the pregnancy, and despite himself it was finally sinking in that they would never be together, would never have the future they'd planned. Yet with his innate determination he continued in school, telling himself that if he and Teri were ever to have the life they had wanted he would need to provide for her and their baby, and that meant doing well in his studies, and saving the money he earned from his job.

His parents provided all of the emotional support they could, and that helped to keep him leveled. But as Teri's due date approached his apprehension grew to the point that he had trouble concentrating, and it was only through the sheer force of his tremendous will that he made it through finals. Then it was time for the baby to be born. He was paralyzed with fear, waiting for 'the call.'

But it didn't come. The date when the original obstetrician had told them the baby was due came and went, and Janet and Mark tried to reassure Jack that babies, especially first babies, were often late, but Jack was beside himself. Ralph verified through the court that Teri hadn't yet delivered, but that only made Jack more fearful that something had gone wrong. Only Mark could stop Jack from getting on a plane, but he finally made him see that he couldn't just go to Oregon; he didn't know for sure where in the state Teri was. He could only wait, and Jack wasn't a patient man. He never was, and never would be.

Finally, finally Ralph called. "It's a girl, Jack. A healthy, beautiful girl, and Teri's fine. The baby is 7 pounds, 6 ounces, 20 inches long, in perfect health. Her Apgar scores were fine. There were no complications."

Jack started to cry, from relief and joy. A feeling of disbelief also overwhelmed him. He was a father. He had a baby. But he didn't have a wife.

"Can I see the baby? Can I see Teri?" He was pleading, and his voice was shaking.

"You can see the baby, Jack, but Teri doesn't have to see you if she doesn't want to. Go to Salem, she's at the Willamette Valley Medical Center."

"Is Teri...has she surrendered the baby, Ralph? Is she putting the baby up for adoption?" This scared Jack most of all.

"I asked, Jack, but she hasn't signed any papers. Not yet, at least." He paused. "That not to say she won't, of course. She can change her mind at any time."

Ralph had explained to the Bauers that it would be worse for them if Teri kept the baby than if she surrender her for adoption. If she decided to keep the baby there would be a custody fight, and Jack would probably lose, for the courts overwhelmingly favored giving custody to the mother. The court would give him visitation rights but those would be limited, so Jack would hardly ever see his daughter. Despite everything, though, Jack couldn't believe, and didn't want to believe, that Teri could ever give up their baby to strangers. If she did, it meant that he had never really known her at all.

"I'll get there as soon as I can get a flight," Jack told his lawyer. "I'm sure my parents will, too." He smiled despite his fears. "We can't wait to see the baby."

"I'm sure you can't, Jack," Ralph replied, "but remember, you probably won't be able to see Teri. From what I understand, she doesn't want to see you, and her parents are there. I'm sure they'll try to keep you from her. And you can't make a scene, Jack. If you do it'll hurt you badly if you try to get custody."

Jack said he understood, that he wouldn't make trouble, and Ralph was sure he wouldn't. He knew that Bill Wilkerson had started the fight, and he secretly hoped that for Jack's sake Wilkerson would start something at the hospital. If Jack wanted custody showing that Teri's parents, who would be an important part of the baby's child care, were violent would help Jack's case.

Janet was on her cell phone making plane reservations, and she was pleased to tell Jack that she had gotten a flight for them later that morning. They all rushed to pack, and for once the plane was on time. Jack fidgeted all the way to Oregon, and he was nervous throughout the ride to the hospital. Once they got there he practically ran to the nursery, but the baby wasn't there.

"The babies are with their mothers now," the nurse told him. "It's feeding time."

Chapter 36

Jack had no right to enter Teri's room, and worse, Wilkerson was standing outside the door. When he saw Jack it was evident that there was still no love lost.

"Do you know what you put her through, you bstard? The pain? The agony?" Bill shouted at him. "Because you just had to have your 'fun,' you little pr!ck? And now she's got a bstard of her own. What'd you do to her future, huh? She's a kid with her own kid now. You pr!ck, you fcking, miserable, son of a b!tch! You get out of here before I kill you!"

Wilkerson lunged for Jack, and the hospital security guards, whom Mark had alerted, rushed to pull him away. Standing to the side, Ralph Perkins took pictures with his video camera. He had expected this.

Jack was shaking with anger. "I just want to see her. The baby, I mean. My daughter. You can't stop me from seeing her, I'm her father, damn you. And I want to see Teri, too, if she'll let me. And that's up to her, not you. She's a grown woman, she's a mother now for God's sake, and you can't control her, not forever. You can't control everything she says or does, or who she sees. And you certainly can't keep me from seeing my baby." Jack stood his ground as the hospital guards continued to restrain Wilkerson. No one, nothing was moving Jack from that spot.

Mark came to stand with Jack. "Son, we'll just have to wait. I'm sure that as soon as Teri is finished feeding the baby you'll be able to see her. It won't be much longer. Just try to be patient."

"That's what you think," Wilkerson sneered as he tried to pull loose from the guards, who had dragged him to the other side of the hallway. "Teri's keeping the baby in the room with her. You'll never be able to see them, Teri or the baby. And when they leave the hospital you'll never know where they've gone."

"You can't do tha—" Jack started to go towards Wilkerson, but Mark and Perkins held him back.

"No, Jack, they can't," Jack's lawyer interceded. "You have a right to see the baby, and I'll make sure you do. Teri can't just take off with her. Don't worry about that. I promise you'll see her today. Very soon, in fact. If I have to get a judge to order it, I'll do it. So please, stop worrying. Just try to stay calm."

Mark put his arm around his son's shoulder, trying to relax him, keep him under control, while Janet stood there helplessly, feeling her son's anxiety, anxious and eager herself to see her granddaughter. Ralph headed for the pay phones.

After a while Gloria Wilkerson came out of the room, and when she saw the Bauers her expression turned grim. "How is she?" Jack eagerly asked her, but she ignored him. Instead she walked to where her husband was being restrained.

"Get your hands off him!" she ordered the hospital guards. "How dare you!"

"Ma'am, he was starting to attack that young man. We were about to call the police when that other gentleman asked us not to." He indicated Mark with a tilt of his head. "Your husband won't stop fighting us. If he would, we'd release him, but we can't take a chance, not here in the hospital. He's got to control himself, we can't let him endanger the patients, the babies. If he doesn't start to behave we'll have to call the cops."

Gloria turned to her husband and said, "Bill, please, stop this. Our lawyer told you that Jack has legal rights. The judge said he has to be allowed to see the baby. The courts are making us let him, so we might as well keep this civil. It'll only hurt Teri more. Please, Bill, just let him see Kim. Please."

Kim. That's her name. Kim. That's what Teri named our baby. The thought hit Jack hard that he had had no part in naming his child. He and Teri had never had time to choose names for their baby, never laughed at names the way couples did when they went through books, giggling over meanings and combinations, how they would go with last names, groaning over names of aunts and uncles and cousins who their family members would want honored and remembered, all the things that couples considered when were choosing a name for their baby. He hadn't been a part of that. He'd never be a part of that. A whole part of his baby's life had already been taken from him. It hit him even harder than missing her birth, for that part had seemed so unreal, something he had no experience with, so like a dream. But a name – that was something he could connect with, would always relate to. And that was gone, for good.

A part of him crumbled. The Wilkersons had won, had taken his baby from him. He realized that Teri was gone from him, too, they would never let her back into his life, he had lost the love he had wanted, needed to spend his life with. Teri, and his baby girl, Kim. They were gone.

Chapter 37

Ralph came back with the court order, and Jack and his parents were taken to a private room, where they soon heard the faint rumble of a bassinet being wheeled down the corridor. As the nurse entered Jack tensed, eager and anxious to see his daughter.

He peered at the tiny baby as the nurse lifted her, seeing his little girl for the first time, her dark hair so like Teri's, giving no hint of the lightness it would turn into. But the blue eyes were like his, and he felt a thrill he'd never believed possible. He was fearful as he took her, afraid he'd drop Kim, afraid he'd hurt her, feeling so strange, not associating the name with this miracle, but it was the name Teri had chosen, so it had to be right. He only knew that he would agree to whatever Teri wanted, even if it meant she didn't want him.

Mark and Janet peered at their granddaughter, wanting so much to hold her, but they'd never take her from Jack, he needed so to be with his tiny baby, to cradle her, and he carefully sat in the rocker as the nurse handed him a bottle and he looked anxiously for the nurse to show him how to feed Kim. He had no idea how to hold her, how to hold the bottle, and he wanted nothing more than to get it right. He was desperately afraid that he'd hurt his little girl, choke her, drown her, and he'd never known such fear, for he was sure she'd break, she was so tiny, so fragile. He didn't even notice when the door opened and Teri entered the room. Janet and Mark saw her and quietly left. Teri stood silently, watching Jack and their daughter.

Chapter 38

Kim fell asleep before she had finished her bottle, and the nurse showed Jack how to gently lift her onto his shoulder and rub her back to bring up a burp. It was then that Jack saw Teri, tears filling her eyes as she watched the two people she loved most in the world, in the most intimate of moments. As he saw her he felt overwhelmed, both by holding his baby and seeing the love of his life crying, and he wasn't sure why. Was it anger at him? Or was it pain from the birth she'd so recently experienced? It didn't occur to him that it was because of her separation from him; that seemed so much what she wanted.

She couldn't speak, couldn't tell him that she was sorry, for she too was overwhelmed, and she didn't know how to start, to tell him that she had made the mistake of a lifetime.

Jack didn't know what to say, either. The tears that rolled down his cheeks finally broke her silence, for Teri saw the pain that she had caused, and she knew she had to at least try to make things right, although in her heart she believed that she had let things go too far. She couldn't believe that he could ever forgive her for all that she had put him through. She didn't fully comprehend the bottomless depth of his love, for her, and for Kim.

"Jack," she started, "Kim, Kimberley – she's perfect, isn't she?"

Kimberley. That was her name. Not Kim. It took a moment for it to penetrate. He hadn't even gotten used to Kim yet. Another name he hadn't participated in. More pain went through him.

"She's beautiful, Teri," he said. "Perfect," not knowing what else to say, but meaning it. "She's wonderful." A smile spread across his face as he held the miracle that was his daughter. Their daughter.

"You look wonderful holding her," Teri continued. "She won't break, you know. You can relax."

"I guess it'll happen," Jack said, trying to keep the bitterness from his voice. "But only seeing her a few times a week – it'll take time."

"Who said – I mean – why a few times a week? You can see her whenever you want."

"That's not what I was told," Jack said softly, fighting not to cry, recognizing his tremendous vulnerability, knowing he would break. "The lawyer told me that the court order says I can see her twice a week. I won't be able to get used to feeding her or holding her very fast that way."

"Oh, Jack," Teri said, crumbling. "My God, what have I done! You're her father. You have to see her more often. Whenever you want to."

"How can that happen, Teri?" he asked stiffly, trying to control his emotions, not wanting to show his hurt, or his anger, then not caring if he did. "When your father wants to kill me? He went after me in the corridor before. Did you know that? The guards had to grab him before he could try to choke me again," he added bitterly, his feelings breaking through, he wasn't sure of what she knew, what she tolerated, what she even wanted.

"Oh, God, that isn't what I want. I want to be with you, I want us to be together. Oh, my God, what have I done? My parents, they – I can't believe this, I can't believe any of this is happening, and it's all my fault. I let them do this, I let them make me leave you. I can't believe I let them. It's not their fault, it's mine. It's all my fault. My God, Jack, I'm so sorry. I'm so very sorry."

For once Jack didn't melt. He was so incredibly hurt by what she'd done that he didn't, couldn't just go to her and tell her that everything was all right, that he forgave her. He couldn't just take her in his arms as he had before and tell her everything was going to be all right. He couldn't just believe her. It was beyond that. It just wasn't that easy.

Chapter 39

Bill Wilkerson had struggled when he saw the baby being taken from Teri's room; he knew it was so that Jack could see her. The security guards took him to their office to calm down, so he had no idea that Teri had gone to find Jack. Had he known, of course, he would have made a scene to end all scenes, and things might have actually gone better. But Jack was right. It wasn't that easy.

Gloria had reluctantly accepted that the baby was being taken to her daddy, and she decided to decided to take a break and went for coffee, believing that Teri was resting in her room. She, too, didn't know that Teri had gone in search of Jack.

The guards had released Bill when he swore he'd behave and he and Gloria had both headed back to Teri's room, so the Wilkersons were surprised to see Teri in the hallway, and they surmised where she had been when they saw that she was crying.

"What did that bstard do, Teri?" Bill demanded. "What did he do? Did he hurt you?" Although the guards had let Bill go they weren't about to let him out of their sight, and they had stayed close by. They were ready to grab him if he didn't settle down.

"Dad, enough!" Teri finally snapped. "Leave him alone! Please! Can't you see what you've done? What I've done? I love Jack, and I want to be with him. He's Kim's father, for God's sake, and now I'm a single mother, and she doesn't have a father. We were going to get married, she would have had two parents, and I let you separate us, you and Mom. I wouldn't stand up to you, I let you control me, and I'm a grown-up. I have a baby, for God's sake! I'm not going to let you tell me how to live my life. I'd go back to Jack if I could, if he'd have me, but he doesn't, and I can't blame him. So now just leave me alone! I don't want you here!"

"Baby, what are you saying, you can't go back to him, you need us!" Gloria protested. "You can't raise the baby alone!"

"I wouldn't have to be alone if I hadn't listened to you and Dad, don't you get it? I let you talk me into leaving him. And it's not your fault, it's mine! I'm a grown woman, I should never have listened to you. I shouldn't have listened, I should have made my own decisions. The whole damn thing is my fault, and I've hurt Jack unbelievably. He doesn't want to have anything to do with me now, and I can't even blame him. Not after all I've done, all the pain I've caused him. So it's my fault that Kim won't have a father in her life, not every day at least, but we'll be all right. Jack will never abandon us, I know that, he's a good man, he's the best man, even though you and Dad don't believe it. You've never been more wrong about anything, and I've made the worst mistake of my life. I'll never make a worse one, not ever. But now I'm going to take care of my baby. Myself. And I don't ever want to see you again!"

Jack, Mark and Janet stood quietly at the end of the corridor after having returned the baby to the nursery, taking all this in. The tears streaming down Jack's face said more than any words. He walked to Teri with a purposeful stride and took her in his arms, holding her so that her face was pressed against his shoulder, cutting off any further words, stifling the sobs that were tearing at her.

Bill broke from the guards' grasp and ran at Jack, grabbing Teri from him. He hit Teri across the face, and she crumpled to the floor

"You son of a b!tch!" Jack yelled as he went at Bill. He launched himself at the man and punched him squarely in the jaw, sending Bill sprawling. The guards, instead of going for Jack surrounded Bill, grabbing his arms and holding him down. Although Jack was tensed for a fight, he didn't throw any more punches. Instead, he bent over Teri.

"Teri! My God, are you all right? Let me see your face! Mom, get the nurse! Do you think anything's broken? Is her nose broken?"

"I'm okay, Jack, nothing's broken," Teri said, although she didn't sound or look like it. She was dazed, and there was blood on her face.

Gloria was rooted to the floor, her disbelief evident. The nurse hurried over, followed by Janet, Mark, and a doctor.

"Call the police!" the doctor yelled to the nurse. "Take this man to the security office, and keep him there," he ordered the guards." To Teri he said, "Let's get you back to your room so I can examine you."

Jack picked up Teri, concerned about the blood that was pouring onto her chin. She seemed weak as he lay her on the bed.

The doctor shone a light into her eyes and gingerly touched her face. "I think we'd better get an x-ray. There might be a fracture."

Gloria was standing at the side of the bed. She still hadn't said a word, and she watched in silence as her daughter was moved onto a stretcher and taken for x-rays. Jack held Teri's hand as she was wheeled out.

Janet and Mark remained in the room with Gloria, and the silence was increasingly uncomfortable. Finally, Gloria softly spoke.

"This isn't what we wanted, Bill or I. We only wanted what's best for Teri. We were upset – we thought – we just thought it wasn't good for her – that getting married – "

"You thought Jack wasn't good enough for her," Janet interrupted heatedly. "You thought that she could do better, so you'd rather she have a baby out-of-wedlock and give it up for adoption than marry for love. There's something awfully sick about your values, Dr. Wilkerson. Your's, and your husband's. Thank goodness your daughter isn't like you. Mark and I think the world of Teri. She's a smart, level-headed, lovely girl, who has the right values, the right priorities. The only question I have is how you could be her parents." With that, Janet left the room. A moment later, Mark left, too.

Chapter 40

Bill was carted off to jail while Teri was taken for an extensive examination and tests. The tension of the others didn't abate as they waited for the results of the x-rays. Their venomous thoughts were predictable, and while Janet's, Mark's and even Gloria's were of a kind, Jack's were different. He wasn't focused on anger. He wanted to know only how he could reconcile with Teri.

Seeing her hurt, seeing her attacked by her father had cut through his rage. He knew it would take a long time to heal, that he and Teri would have a lot of work to do to fix their relationship, but he knew in his gut that they were both mature enough to know that this wasn't just something that you could kiss and say 'all better.' They were both past the juvenile stage of what psychologists call 'magical thinking,' a child's thoughts that wishing makes something happen. In the grown-up world it takes long, hard work to make a maintain a relationship, much more to fix a broken one, and theirs had been on the brink, perhaps over the edge. It would take devotion, dedication, determination and more than a few tears to make sure that they got this right, but Jack knew from the way Teri had sounded when she spoke to her parents that she had grown up immensely. She, too, was in tremendous emotional pain, and it had showed with every word she had said to them. She knew, she felt, the agony of what she had done to Jack, how she had pierced him to his core, but all that mattered now was that she knew that it might taken even more than she had to try to reach him to make things right. But he knew she would try, she would keep trying, she always would try, and that was why he had fallen in love with her, and would never, ever fall out.

Mark and Janet saw that their son was in an unreachable place, and they both recalled their early days together, when it had seemed so much easier, so much fairer than the times Jack was experiencing with Teri. Neither could understand why he had to contend with such pain, why he couldn't be starting out on the golden life they believed was his due. As with all loving parents they felt his anguish more keenly than if it had been their own. But Jack was oblivious to their thoughts.

Gloria was on a different plane. She was angry at all of them, including Teri. Bill was prominent on the list, but not necessarily at the top. Jack was right up there with him, and Teri was not far behind. Gloria was furious that Teri had spoken to her parents as she had, and while Gloria was mad that Bill had hit her, she was just as angry that Jack had hit Bill back. Now Bill was under arrest, and Jack wasn't. She knew that Teri would probably go back to Jack with her illegitimate child and marry the son-of-a-b!tch anyway, who wasn't good enough for her in the first place, which was what had caused this whole sorry mess. Bill would wind up in jail, and it was all because that damn daughter of theirs had slept around. And to top it off, that Bauer woman had the nerve to tell her off! The more she thought about it, the madder Gloria got. Soon she was shaking with rage.

No one had spoken in the room for nearly a half hour, and the silence was only broken when the doctor entered to tell them the results of his examination. Four separate reveries were sharply broken when the door opened.

"She's going to be all right," the doctor started as soon as he walked in. "There are a fractures but they're minor, and she won't need surgery. There won't be any permanent damage, but she'll have to stay in the hospital a few days longer."

"Thank God," breathed Jack softly, tears forming in his eyes. "Can I see her, Doctor?"

"Right now, Son. She wants to see you."

"I'm her mother, Doctor. I want to see her now," Gloria demanded.

"Dr. Wilkerson, she specifically said she doesn't want to see you, or her father. I'm sorry," the doctor responded.

"That's unacceptable, Doctor. You know..."

"That doesn't matter," the doctor cut her off. "Ms. Wilkerson is of age, Dr. Wilkerson. She's not a minor. She can make her own decisions, and she's made this one. You know the law, Doctor." Turning to Jack he said, "Come with me, Mr. Bauer."

Janet and Mark smiled as their son followed the doctor out of the room. Their smiles broadened as they saw a red-faced Gloria stalk out in the other direction.

Chapter 41

Jack didn't hesitate before he entered Teri's room although he felt unsure, the right words not yet clearly formed in his head.

"Teri?" he whispered. "Teri?"

She looked pale even against the pillow, the whiteness of her skin contrasting starkly against the darkening bruises inflicted by her father. The fractures of her cheekbone and nose had caused tremendous swelling, and the disfigurement of the features that Jack so cherished brought tears of pain to him that added more anguish what he already felt, the pain of fear and separation and love.

She weakly turned her head toward him and gave a slight smile. The hurt it caused was unmistakable. "Jack," she whispered back, and held out her hand, "you're here."

"Of course I'm here, Sweetheart. Of course I'm here," he said, taking her hand in both of his. "I'll always be here." He raised her hand to his lips and held it there, and then he started to cry.


	12. Part XII

PART XII

Chapter 1

His dream was so vivid that when Jack awoke he expected to find Teri in bed beside him and the sound of Kim cooing in the next room. The sadness that washed over him as reality replaced the wonderful fantasy of sleep was like a whitewash over a Michelangelo. No amount of restoration could bring it back to its full glory, but the underlying masterpiece was still there.

He remained in bed, indulging in the recollections that remained, still-recognizable images of the past bringing more joy than pain, and he reveled in them. Better to have loved and lost, he thought, as he finally arose and faced the day. Better love.

Chapter 2

"I'm Jack Bauer," he said, holding his hand out to a beautiful woman he'd noticed at the pool, where he was happily swimming away, doing as many laps as he wanted, finally able to finish whatever work-out he felt like doing. He felt better than he had in years.

"Lesley Kramer," she said. She also loved to swim, and she was gorgeous. She was in her late fifties but she looked at least a decade younger, and although her body was terrific, she didn't pretend to be a twenty-something, wearing a bikini. Jack respected that, and thought that in her one-piece she outshone the Gen X'rs in their more revealing suits.

As he took in her dark brown hair and darker eyes he thought to himself, she only comes up to my shoulders. It made him instinctively feel protective, and he smiled to himself. Don't rush things, Jack, he told himself. You don't know anything about her.

Her skin is soft, Jack thought as they shook hands, and she's not gripping hard, not trying to show me anything, not trying to show that she's tough. I like that.

"How often do you come here?" Jack asked, realizing as the words came out that they were a poor variation on the typical bar pick-up line, 'Do you come here often?'

Lesley realized it, too, and laughed. "I try to do laps at least three times a week, and the same for the equipment. More, if I'm up to it. How about you?"

"I'm usually here four or five times a week, and I jog at home the other days."

"You're very devoted to working out," she said. She realized how it sounded. "I'm not being critical," she continued. "I'm just not as dedicated."

Jack laughed. "Don't worry about it." He continued, "Where do you live?"

Lesley responded, "Marina del Rey. How about you?"

"Santa Monica," he said, thinking it wasn't that far on US 1. "What kind of work do you do?"

"I'm retired," she said. "I'm a recovering lawyer."

He laughed at the phrase. "What kind of law did you practice?" He hoped it didn't sound like a CTU interrogation.

"I was a prosecutor. US Attorney's office. Trial work."

"That's tough stuff," he responded. "But you're young to retire."

"I was shot by one of my defendants," she said. "I was hurt pretty badly, so I hung it up, and I swim as part of my physical therapy."

"Wow," he said, thinking of his multitude of injuries, all in the line of duty. What a hell of a thing to have in common.

"I think I read about that," he said slowly, remembering TV news stories and newspaper articles about the attack on the prosecutor of the 'don,' the head of the LA organized crime 'family.' She had almost died.

"How about you, Jack?" she asked, although his name was so familiar from the news that she was certain she knew the answer.

"I was with the government," he said, his natural instincts making him wary. "I'm retired, too."

There was another pause. "Well, it was nice to meet you, Jack. I'm sure we'll run into each other again here."

"Wait," he said. "Would you like to go out to dinner sometime?"

Chapter 3

When he got home he remembered his promise to Dr. Logan, and as soon as he got in he called to tell him that he felt much better. Nevertheless, the doctor insisted that Jack come to his office. He wanted to know what had made such a difference in his patient.

When Jack got there some of the glow was gone, but not all of it. Jack didn't realize, although Logan soon did, that he had made a huge breakthrough. His mind was starting to forgive him, to let him accept good times, to let him feel good about himself.

Dr. Logan led Jack through what had happened, through the dream that Jack so vividly remembered, from the dark times when he thought he had lost Teri to the joyous and hopeful time when they'd been young lovers with their future so bright, even though Jack, while dreaming, knew it wouldn't, didn't last. His knowledge that it would all end tragically had stopped destroying his ability to enjoy his memories of times that had once been so wonderful. It was a tremendous step for Jack, a huge accomplishment, and he began to understand the enormous significance of it, that he was starting to get well. He felt a sensation of well-being, of hope, that he'd never recalled experiencing as an adult, certainly not after he'd undertaken the enormous demands of first the military and then the para-military life that was CTU.

He'd never realized when he started to plummet into the precipice, to fall into the pressure cooker that came of always being responsible for the lives of others, imposed by circumstances and his own sense of duty. When the obligations overtook him, when they affected his outlook on life the changes were so subtle, as he rose in the ranks and his responsibilities increased, as his experiences showed him what he would face and his innate caring for the lives and well-being of others showed themselves in ever more desperate situations he didn't know it, so he didn't see how they imperceptibly, to him, changed his relationship with Teri. But she noticed. Teri saw it and felt it and lived with it, and she tried to cope, to understand, and it wasn't only Nightfall that made her feel shut out; that was the culmination of years, the extreme, the ultimate, the breaking point.

She'd devoted herself to raising Kim, although Jack loved their daughter as much as she did, but she was home while Jack so often was not, and then she started her business, working out of the house so she could be there when Kim got home, could attend school plays and volleyball games, do car pools, all the things that a stay-at-home mom tries to fit into a hectic day. But it rankled, the feeling that she was sometimes a single parent, and somehow Jack didn't notice, for he was so wrapped up in his job, in his missions, in his life-or-death ops that would silently take him away and just as secretively return him home, sometimes injured so badly that she despaired. He was genuinely stunned when their marriage failed, for he was so isolated by then that he was out of touch not only with his own feelings but with Teri's as well. It wasn't until he was with Nina that he saw what he wanted, and it was Teri. In a weird, warped way, Nina was the way who had shown him the way home. Irony. It was fast becoming his watchword.

If Teri hadn't told him to leave he probably would never have come to grips with things, he realized now. That was the hit on the head he'd needed, and he thanked God for it. He knew he'd taken Teri for granted, he'd simply assumed that she would always love him no matter what; he painfully admitted to himself that he hadn't considered her feelings, for he hadn't perceived that his attitudes and actions had changed, so why would he have thought that she could have been hurt by him? He was the same man she had married, that's what he'd thought. God, the self-deception, he lambasted himself. And I'm supposed to be able to read things so well, to be able to size things up instinctively. And I had no idea what the fck was going on in my own house, with my own family.

If he had to rank his many failings, and they were legion, he knew, uncountable, this was the top of the list. He'd hurt the ones he loved, and that was the worst, the unforgivable. No matter what progress he made he'd never get over that. The key was dealing with it, for it wouldn't go away, he couldn't undo it. That much, at least, he'd gleaned. Guilt wasn't the answer, it solved nothing, it was counterproductive, it was destructive. If he'd learned nothing else in therapy, it was that.

He knew he wasn't done with his past, that he would still have to wrestle with it, that there were still many, many demons waiting to attack him and pull him down. Nevertheless, there was a sensation of strength, for he felt he would be able to meet them and repel them. His feeling was one of growing well-being. Of peace.

Chapter 4

After leaving Logan's office Jack determinedly drove to CTU. He found he needed to get to the bottom of the mess with Gaines, the discovery of the connection to Palmer. It was an impediment to his recovery, to his survival, physical and emotional. It was a loose end he had to tie up. It was a part of finally laying Teri to rest.

He actually noticed things as he drove, which was a rarity, for he was usually so preoccupied with the roller coaster events in his life that the billboards for beer and electronics along the freeway, the warm breezes that made him open the sunroof of the SUV that he'd barely realized was a part of the package that came with the car that they never entered into his consciousness. For once the sunshine made putting on his sunglasses more than an automatic motion. He felt more alive than usual, not a machine, but someone who wanted to feel, not just react. It was an intense sensation for him, because it showed how far he had come.

Chapter 5

The absence of dread as he pulled into the CTU garage surprised him. Just the day before it had settled over him like a blanket. As he walked to the conference room he'd worked in the day before he saw Tony headed towards him.

"Hi, Jack," Tony said.

"Hi, Tony," he responded. "Have you got more data?"

"Some, but I'm afraid you'll have to go through it alone. We have a protocol working, and I have to follow it. I can't spare the time today."

"S'okay," Jack said, "I understand." He was a bit surprised by his lack of curiosity about the protocol. His separation from CTU really was complete, and all he felt was relief.

"I put the papers in the conference room. We brought in some sandwiches before, and I saved a couple for you. There's fresh coffee, too. Just let me know if you find anything, okay?"

"Sure. And thanks for the food, Tony."

As Tony walked out Jack filled a mug with coffee - decaf, he noticed that Tony had left for him - and settled into a chair before he reached for the top file on the stack piled high. He was quickly immersed in the data.

After about an hour or so he muttered a soft "Son of a b!tch."

He wasn't aware of the numerous mugs of coffee he kept pouring and drinking until his bladder told him he had to take a break, and it wasn't until he was on his way back to the conference room that it all clicked – Palmer's involvement. His motive. Why Nightfall had failed.

Chapter 6

Jack's distress was palpable, so when Tony saw him he followed his friend to the conference room. "What is it, Jack?" he asked, his curiosity building. He'd never seen Jack so frenetic, so worked up.

"Tony, Palmer's a traitor," Jack said, shaking from both agitation and another feeling – betrayal. "There's no doubt about it. He worked with Drazen, Viktor bribed him, to free him. They worked together all along, to help Viktor get out of Kosovo and get a new identity. Palmer authorized the mission, Nightfall, so we would think Viktor was dead, and we did. That part worked. We thought, and we were right, that no one could have survived the bombing. We didn't know, of course, that Viktor's wife and daughter were in the building, even Drazen didn't know they'd come back early and were in there. Drazen was supposed to get away. His wife and daughter were supposed to meet him a few days after he escaped and was safely in South America."

Jack paused for breath, still working out the sequence in his mind. "But he was betrayed by his own people before we even started Nightfall. Someone, one of Drazen's own men, tipped off the Kosovo Special Police, and they grabbed Viktor. The guy turned him in for a reward. They were going to execute Drazen for war crimes, but Palmer interceded again, he knew Viktor's sons would have him killed otherwise, and Palmer sent in another team, another covert Special Forces team, to bring Drazen out of Kosovo. The second mission was on Palmer's authority, but he couldn't take a chance a second time and just release him. They played it by the book and turned him over to people Andrei and Alexis had bribed in the Defense Department. The reason Viktor was kept in the secret prisons was so that no one, or at least very few people in DOD would know he was in custody, and his sons could rescue him without having to attack a regular military prison like Fort Leavenworth. That would have caused a whole investigation, and Palmer's role would have come to light. The mini-prisons were easier to hit, they were kept secret, they were lightly guarded, and Palmer was able to tell Drazen's sons which one Viktor was being held in at any given time. The one near LA was easiest because it was the oldest, the old Nike missile silo. It was falling apart, and it was impossible to defend."

Shaking his head in disbelief, he continued. "It was pure coincidence that their rescue attempt was on Super Tuesday, primary day. That just happened to be the day that Viktor was moved to that location, and Andrei and Alexis attacked the prison to get him out then."

Tony had to ask the key question. "Why would Palmer take the risk, Jack? Why did he need the money? He's wealthy, he was so successful as a lawyer before he even ran for the Presidency. Why'd he do it?"

"Because the whole thing was a sham, Tony. Palmer knew all along that Nicole had been raped, of course, but he also knew that his son Keith was involved. He'd been paying blackmail to keep it quiet, and he was being bled dry."

"Who was behind it, Jack? Who was blackmailing Palmer?"

Jack took a deep breath before he replied.

Chapter 7

"Sherry."

Tony was startled out of his seat, but he didn't interrupt Jack. "She was behind it, behind the blackmail, but Palmer didn't know that part. She was in it with that guy, what was his name, the guy he used so he didn't have to get his own hands dirty, Carl Webb. Palmer wasn't the squeaky-clean guy we all thought he was, you know, and Sherry and Webb were opportunists, the crassest kind, and Palmer never suspected it. Sherry played the dutiful wife, but she was only in it for the power. David Palmer, the savvy politician, was a complete dupe, a political cuckold, and he never even had a clue. It was only on the day of the primary that he found out what a b!tch his wife was, what she'd stoop to, when he learned that she'd known all along of Keith's involvement and I asked that he let everyone think that he'd been killed so I could rescue Kim. It wasn't until then that he realized what she was, but even then he didn't put it all together, the blackmail and Sherry's part in it. I'm not sure he knows about that even now."

"Jack, are you sure about this? This is pretty wild stuff. I mean, Palmer was the President, and you said he paid Drazen to try to kill him. This is crazy!"

"Not actually kill him, Tony. Just hear me out." Jack stopped again, still sorting things through. He drank some more of his coffee, and the break was maddening. Tony wanted to wring the information out of Jack.

He finally started again after he'd collected his thoughts. "Viktor was furious when he was captured, of course. He was supposed to be out of Kosovo, free somewhere with a new name, and I bet he had arranged for plastic surgery to complete his new identity. He felt he'd been double-crossed by Palmer when he was caught, and even if he knew it was because one of his own men turned on him I'm sure he blamed Palmer for it, whether it was his fault or not. So he wanted revenge on Palmer. He wanted to avenge his wife's and daughter's deaths, too, and he wanted me dead for that. That part never changed."

The exhaustion was unmistakable in his voice yet he couldn't slow down. "The only way Palmer could protect himself from Viktor was to fake an assassination attempt. That was to distract attention from Drazen's sons' plan to get Viktor out of the prison. Everyone, everybody in law enforcement and intelligence, was focused on Palmer, on the attempt on his life. The whole thing was set up for that reason. Palmer had to fund it to prove to Viktor that he hadn't double-crossed him, so he – Palmer – paid Gaines to capture Teri and Kim."

"Palmer paid Gaines to lure me in, get me to front for the photographer, Belkin, get him into the breakfast to set up the attempt on his life, but that's what it was, a set-up. Belkin was never supposed to shoot me. He'd been hired by Gaines to stage it, and anyway, Palmer knew I'd stop Belkin from shooting him in case something went wrong. Don't forget, he knew my record from Nightfall. Palmer was counting on me to find a way to keep him alive, isn't that something? That I'd stop the assassination? Then he was sure either the Secret Service would kill me, or the police would. Palmer and Gaines didn't care what happened to the photographer, and coincidentally the attempt would give Palmer a boost in the polls. Drazen and Gaines were going to kill Teri and Kim, of course, that was part of the plan. Gaines couldn't afford to let them live as witnesses against him, and Viktor wanted them dead for revenge against me. When I rescued them I spoiled their plans. That's why Drazen went after Teri and Kim again. But by then Palmer had gotten cold feet, he knew I'd go after him, so he agreed to keep quiet and pretend he was dead."

"Jack, hold on. How did Palmer know that Keith had been involved in that kid's death? The one who raped his daughter?"

"Sherry," Jack said. "Webb found out about Keith Palmer and decided to blackmail the Palmers. When Webb approached Sherry she told him she'd turn him in to the police. She already had dirt on Webb, her 'insurance,' and she threatened him unless he cut her in on the action, so they both blackmailed David. I mean, come on! She blackmailed her own husband! Sherry and Webb actually sent Palmer the record of Keith's hospital visit, the one he did under a different name, all anonymously so they could blackmail him. As I said, Palmer had no idea Sherry was behind it so he just paid the demand. He never said anything about it to Sherry, he trusted her and he didn't want to upset her or their kids. At least he was honorable in that. But when he was bled dry, he gave in to Viktor's demand, and he set up Nightfall to get money from Drazen. And he gave him my radio frequency," he added bitterly, for that was the worst part of all. It was what had caused the failure of the mission, and the deaths of Jack's men. It was what had sent Jack over the edge and had led to his separation from Teri, and had set in motion the events of that terrible day that ultimately led to her death.

Jack was too drained to talk more, and Tony couldn't take any more in. The men sat in silence, Jack trying to cope with how he'd been betrayed by a man he'd come to trust so completely, Tony with trying to absorb what he'd been told. It was impossible for either to do it so quickly, but Tony recovered first.

Softly he said, "Jack, let's go. C'mon, come with me."

Like an automaton, for he couldn't control his thoughts anymore, Jack followed Tony and collapsed into a chair after climbing the stairs to what used to be his office. Tony poured them both stiff drinks of scotch. Jack's – both their minds – needed numbing.

Chapter 8

There were still lots of loose ends, and it wasn't 'til the next day that Tony felt Jack was strong enough for him to try to deal with them. They sat in Jack's house, more glasses of scotch before them although it was only early afternoon, when Tony started to ask the questions that had kept him awake the night before.

"I still don't understand this, Jack," he started gently. "Why would Sherry want Palmer's money? I mean, she was his wife. She already had his money. What was his was her's, right?"

"No, not in Maryland, where they're from," Jack said wearily, for sleep had eluded him as well. "It's not the same there as it is in California, Tony. When Palmer divorced her she wouldn't automatically get half. She always thought everyone was as – as devious, as nasty, as miserable a b!tch as she was. She thought she had to protect herself in case he ever caught on to her, so she wanted to build a nest egg for herself, kind of a 'rainy day' fund if he ever left her. So when Webb gave her the opportunity she squirreled the money away, whatever she got from Palmer, and he never caught on."

He smiled ruefully. "Palmer paid taxes on the money he earned, so there was no tax fraud, but Sherry just blackmailed him out of it, and he couldn't go to anyone, tell the police, or it would have ruined his career. That's why she covered everything up in the first place, and that's why he did, too. Only he didn't know she was covering it up. And she never knew about Nightfall, or when he arranged to fake the assassination attempt. What a mess their marriage was." He shook his head in disbelief.

"It all started to fall apart when Maureen Kingsley called and told him that she knew of Keith's involvement in that kid's death. That's when Palmer knew he was in trouble, and he didn't know how to get out of it. His instincts paid off and he went public. He didn't know it was Webb who was blackmailing him, so he called him to help him out. Ironic as hell, isn't it? I don't know why Dr. Ferragamo went to Kingsley, and I'm not sure it matters, but Webb killed Dr. Ferragamo to cover his own as, not Palmer's. Palmer didn't know that, of course, he thought Webb was trying to help him by 'looking into it.' Just one more thing Palmer couldn't control."

"Jack," Tony continued, reluctant to press him, but there were still unanswered questions. "The second try. The phone bomb. Was that real?"

"Yeah, that part was. Viktor was fed up, furious, he was still being hunted, and he knew he was running out of time. He had gotten out of the DOD prison but his son Alexis was in custody, he'd been injured, so Palmer hadn't kept his part of the deal so far as Viktor was concerned. Teri, Kim and I were still alive. Teri had gotten away, and Kim was their only leverage over me. By that time Viktor only wanted Palmer dead. And me."

Jack took a big drink of his scotch, and continued thoughtfully. "It's funny in a way. If Viktor's man hadn't betrayed him, Teri would be alive. Nightfall succeeded the way Palmer wanted, the world thought Drazen was dead, so if not for the betrayal Viktor would have had his new identity, and none of the things that happened that day would have occurred. The only failure of Nightfall, so far as Palmer was concerned, was that someone – I – survived, and yet I'm the one Palmer called in to help the day that Ali was going to set off the bomb. All the ironies, Tony, all the bizarre ironies." He gazed off into something Tony couldn't see.

Jack was lost in his reverie, Tony knew, but he couldn't be left alone. Not like this, not when he must be feeling such pain.

Quietly Tony stood and went to the phone.

Chapter 9

"Jack," Logan started, "tell me what you're thinking." He'd gotten there shortly after Tony's call.

"Not much of anything," was the reply. "I – I'm kind of blank. Kind of numb, I guess. It's just too much to take in. I've wrestled with this for so many years, and for it to finally come together after all this time, to suddenly make sense, it's – I don't know. It's – I think overwhelming is the word that fits."

"That's pretty understandable," the doctor agreed. "By the way, where do you keep your glasses? I think I'd like a shot of that scotch if you don't mind."

"Help yourself," Jack responded. "The glasses are in the cabinet to the left of the sink."

Jack was mildly surprised at the request and he wondered idly whether a doctor drinking with his patient was standard medical practice, but he was glad that the man wasn't standing on protocol. God, I hate that word, he thought.

As Logan sat down again he studied Jack, and Jack met his eyes. The two were sitting as equals.

"You've lived the most astonishing life of anyone I've known, Jack," Logan said. "To have seen and done all you have, and to have been personally betrayed by the President of the United States, well, it doesn't get more – I don't know, amazing than that," he finished. "I was going to say incredible, but it's all very credible. Especially to you, although your mind's had to fight through so much of it. And you've made it, Jack. You're healing. Do you realize that?"

Jack hadn't put it together until then, the psychiatric part, but he suddenly understood why the doctor was sharing a drink with him. It wasn't part of the therapeutic process, it actually was a kind of celebration of Jack's recovery, of his working through to the other side of madness and coming out with the parts able to be fitted together to form a whole.

Dr. Logan saw the recognition on his face and raised his glass to him in a salute. Jack raised his own in response.

Chapter 10

The memories still washed over him as the sea washed against the pier, visible so far in the distance from his deck. The ironies that had beset him now ate at him, not just the day with Drazen and Gaines, but the prophetic day that Teri had cast her lot with Jack, had chosen Jack over the demands of her parents, when the decision she had termed the best of her life had sealed her fate. Oh, the bitter ironies. The tears watered his scotch as he swirled it before him, the salt untasted in the melting ice.

The progress he had celebrated with Dr. Logan seemed like a path straight to hell. At the center of all of Teri's pain was Jack, the cause of Teri's hell was Jack. If not for him, what different life would she have had? She'd be alive now, surely, she'd still be a young woman, relatively at least, with her still-infectious laugh. She'd still be the woman who could strike up a conversation with a perfect stranger over something so silly as a sno-cone, who could laugh at the crazy people and see the fun in everyday things, but still so regal, so composed, so elegant in just jeans and a t-shirt, and yet still hold herself high without being haughty. Teri, his Teri, Kim's mom, grandmother to so many, now a great-grandmother, yet still young, forever young in his mind. His Teri, but if she had been someone else's, she'd be an alive Teri. Still alive. The grief was the worst he'd ever known.

Chapter 11

Oblivion was sweet that evening, for the scotch had done its work. He'd figured out why Gaines' daughters thought he had the money. Their father had worked with Drazen, who'd obviously told his wife of Palmer's involvement, that Palmer had paid Gaines, and the Gaines girls, Lucy and Laura, had either deduced, wrongly, or been told by their mother (again, wrongly) that Jack had been working with their father. So they thought Jack knew where the money was. If there ever was any. Gaines had probably died before he could collect.

Everything in Jack's life had been built on lies, even lies he hadn't known of, and his whole life had been shaped by them. Lies had caused Teri's death, Palmer's lies, Nina's lies. If not for Keith Palmer's lie Palmer would not have been blackmailed, so he would never have needed Drazen's money. If not for Palmer's lies Jack would never have been sent to Kosovo, so Viktor's wife and daughter would not have been killed. If not for Nightfall, there would have been no need for Nina's involvement. If not for all Nina's lies, Teri would be alive. And Jack had been involved with all of those, those – people. He thought the word with venom. They seemed more like animals, like slugs, without feelings, without humanity. But they were people, and they'd shaped his life, and he'd been sucked in by them, played by them in one way or another, directly or indirectly. Every damn one.

The scotch went down too smoothly, it ought to burn his guts out, it ought to sear them with pain so that he would suffer, make him writhe or scream, but it didn't. Nothing brought on what he deserved to feel, the awful, awful pain that should tear through his body. He couldn't bring on the physical hurt to match the emotional torment wrenching him. Another thing in his life that wasn't fair. But his life had never been fair. He had never suffered enough.

Teri was the one who had always suffered, and it had always been because of him. From the day they met, it seemed, from the day he first met her parents she'd been tormented, torn apart by their disapproval, and she should have listened to them. He couldn't escape his thoughts, his feelings of the night before. If only she'd listened to them she'd be alive. She'd have made a different life, a better life if only she'd married a better man. The scotch wasn't really helping. It had just dulled things for awhile, but not nearly long enough, and now the bottle was empty. He stumbled as he got up for another, and his fall was hard when his foot hit the table leg.

Chapter 12

He came to the next morning on the deck, his body chilled, his head throbbing worse than he could remember, and the stickiness he felt on his hand when he pushed up to try to stand told him he'd hurt himself when he'd fallen. He limped inside and wet a towel, and it came away from his head covered in dried blood. Great, Jack, he thought through his daze.

The pounding ebbed some with the aspirin he washed down with orange juice, but it still hurt even with the window blinds drawn, and he had to steel himself to look in the bathroom mirror. There was a cut low on his scalp, starting to scab over just at the hairline, a gash that probably could have used some stitches, but he was sure it was too late now. The bleeding had stopped on its own, but it would probably leave a scar, and he'd have to answer to Kim, and probably Logan, for it. Damn! he thought. Not now, not when things are starting to change.

He attributed the wooziness to aspirin on an empty stomach, not liking what else it could mean, and he forced himself to fix some toast although food was hardly what he wanted. After forcing it down it forced its way back up, and he resigned himself to the likelihood that he'd sustained a concussion, something he knew even he couldn't be stupid enough to ignore. They'd want to know how it happened, and that it was hours old, more than several hours old, would heighten their suspicions that he'd been out of it, probably drunk, when it occurred.

With resignation he called Kim and told her he'd had an accident and needed to see a doctor. That admission alone scared her, and she and Chase were at his house in minutes. Chase noticed the broken scotch bottle and glass on the deck immediately, something Jack had missed, and they quickly got Jack to the emergency room.

Tests confirmed Jack's suspicions, and despite his protestations he was consigned again to Kim's guest room for an indefinite stay, with instructions from the doctor to rest. Dr. Logan was called, and the next morning Kim drove Jack to see him.

As before, Logan pulled no punches. "What happened, Jack?" he asked as soon as they were seated. There was no hint of accusation in his tone, only concern.

"Self-pity, I think, guilt, a combination, probably," he said. "I just started thinking of how everything that happened, everything I was a part of just led straight through me to Teri. She made a decision so long ago, she said it was the best decision of her life when she left her parents and went with me, and it led to her death. The irony just hit me, and I went to pieces. Some breakthrough, huh?" He heard the bitterness in his voice, even through the pounding, and it made him wince. He thought, he'd hoped, he was beyond it.

"Jack, you've made the breakthrough. That's why you're feeling this now. You're putting it all together, how it's affected you, how it's linked to Teri. You're letting yourself feel now, you're finally grieving, don't you see? Before you blocked it all out, you wouldn't let yourself make the connections because you walled off your emotions. Now you're past that. That's what the breakdown was, it led to the breakthrough. This is the final part, putting it all back together. Yes, there are setbacks, but this isn't one. You're being too hard on yourself, for a change. You expect it to go smoothly, and life just isn't like that. You, of all people, know that. Life has bumps. Damnit, fcking craters and crevices and goddamn alps. You've had all the ups and downs anyone could have, and you've climbed and crept and you're coming out of that last hole now. You got a cut on your head, but you didn't put a bullet in it. You're almost there, Jack. You're almost there."

He sat back in his chair and looked at Jack closely, while Jack looked down at his hands, trying to absorb Dr. Logan's words. "You think I'm well now?" he asked in a low, incredulous voice. "This is healthy?"

"This is getting healthy, yes. I'd say you're mentally healthy." Jack was struck by the doctor's tone, upbeat, optimistic. "Do you have any idea how many people in this country, on this planet, are neurotic? Most of us, Jack. Way more than half. I'm not sure there's even one person alive who's not neurotic in at least one way or another. You've got more than your share of – shall we say – foibles, Jack? Quirks? Yeah, you're neurotic, but you're sure not psychotic or anything close, you're barely showing symptoms of depression now. The meds are working very, very well, we've got you on the right drugs and doses now. And I think you'll stay that way. You'll always have ups and downs, Jack, but you're a smart man. You'll take your meds, we'll continue therapy on a less frequent basis because I think that's all you need now, and if you need more once in awhile, that's fine. We'll adjust your meds if we have to, that's not uncommon, a lot of people need a 'tune-up' from time to time, and if there's a recurrence of the PTSD we'll deal with it. But if you slip once in awhile and have a pity party that's okay, too. We all have moods like that. What's important is that we don't wallow in them. And I don't think you will."

Jack watched Logan, analyzing what he was hearing. It fit, so far as he could tell. He was coping, he was living. He'd asked for help that morning instead of ignoring his injury or trying to hide it. He'd gone to see Logan willingly. He'd actually met a woman he was attracted to. He'd even asked her out, and he wasn't an impulsive man, socially at least. Anything but. As he thought about it further he realized a new word might apply to him. He was starting to feel happy, despite the terrible things he was wrestling with. Most amazingly, he didn't feel guilty about it. He felt he was putting them in their place. In the past.

Part XIII

Chapter 1

In the shower after working out a couple of weeks later, when the symptoms of the concussion were gone, Jack reflected on his forwardness. He'd rarely been impulsive about asking a woman out, he didn't remember ever doing it as soon as they'd met, but he knew he had done the right thing. Lesley certainly seemed like someone he wanted to get to know, and not taking advantage of the opportunity would have been a serious mistake. Not the only one he'd ever made involving a woman, certainly, but his instinct told him it would have been one of the more serious ones.

They'd spoken on the phone several times since their meeting, with Jack telling her vaguely that he'd been 'under the weather,' for he hadn't wanted her to think that he'd forgotten about asking her out, or that he was somehow stalling before making a specific date. She had been friendly and pleased to hear from him, and they'd talked for awhile, getting to know each other better. He was glad when she agreed to join him for dinner.

He thought about her while he shaved, and enjoyed the feeling of anticipation. It had been quite a while since he had. The scab was gone, he had gotten away without stitches after all, and the cut had faded. It was barely noticeable against his hair, and he hoped that in the soft light of the restaurant Lesley wouldn't see it.

As he dressed in grey slacks and a maroon sweater over a light blue dress shirt, with grey socks and black tassel loafers, Jack realized that he was taking more than his usual interest in his appearance. He had become so used to wearing sweats or jeans and t-shirts that he had been pleasantly surprised to see that he actually had nicer clothes in his closet, and that they fit despite the weight he had lost from the injuries and transplant surgery and hospitalizations, although he'd re-gained almost all of it. I'll have to buy more, he thought, I still don't have enough decent pants and shirts, and I can probably use a new suit and some sport jackets.

He laughed at himself, for clothes had never been important to him, but he sensed that Lesley was someone he wanted to get to know, and he would have to dress decently around her. Not that he wanted to impress her; that wasn't him. But his usual almost-too-casual appearance would be insulting to this woman, he felt, and that would never do. He'd felt this way once before, he realized. With Teri.

He noticed the wedding ring he'd worn for so long after Teri's death when he opened the box where he kept his dress watch, and he recalled his tears when he took the band off. It had seemed then to be the final acknowledgment of her loss, although he knew now how wrong he'd been. Yet he'd known then it was a step he had to take, even though he'd had no intention of ever re-marrying. It had been necessary if he was to get on with his life, and he had admitted to himself that it was something he had to do if he was going to survive. Kim had noticed right away, and she'd carried on about it, and it was one of the more major things that drove them apart then.

Deep down she'd probably known it was the right thing for him to do, but she was way too immature to acknowledge it or to give him any other sign that she didn't blame him for Teri's death. She'd walked out, run away to become a nanny, telling him that she couldn't stand to be with him because he reminded her too much of her mother's death. That this had pierced Jack to his core she either hadn't known, or hadn't cared. Her estrangement from him was all the more painful because it mirrored his guilt, heightened his feeling that she was right, and while he missed her desperately he felt that he deserved her abandonment.

Finally telling him that removing his wedding band was right for him was one of the first signs of her maturity, for she told him, really told him, that she didn't blame him for Teri's death. He never believed her, of course, for he never believed it himself, but he viewed it as a kind of forgiveness, and it enabled him to survive, although 'living' was out of the question. When she broached the subject of the ring with him and told him that she thought it was right, it gave him a greater sense of release than perhaps anything that had happened since he found Teri that day at CTU.

Their closeness had actually increased after that, for Kim had grown into adulthood. The key, of course, was her horror at her dad's near-encounter with death before George Mason took his place and piloted the plane to explode the nuclear bomb; that was the epiphany in her growth to adulthood, and it marked the reality, the finality of her mother's death, for it forced her to the realization that Jack was her sole surviving parent. She knew then that it was time for him, and for her, too, to move on with their lives.

After that, she went on to college, and gladly accepted the job at CTU that Jack wangled for her. Not that there weren't challenges in their relationship, especially when she learned why she had gotten the job, and why Jack wanted her there. But her maturity enabled her to look past it, and to stand by him when he fought and ultimately overcame his addiction. Without her love and support, the outcome of his battle might have been far different. She was his lifeline, and they both knew it. Jack came to trust her judgment, and he treated her like an adult. Their relationship changed subtly over time, although she always remained his 'little girl,' and he never gave up – couldn't give up – his natural instinct to protect her at all cost. For what loving father ever could?

Kim had felt that taking off the ring wasn't the only change he had to make in his life. Over the years she had coaxed him to lighten up, relax, realize that there was a life beyond CTU, and that he needed someone to live it with him. She had liked Kate, and was very disappointed when her relationship with Jack had ended. She didn't understand why it hadn't worked out, but she was finally too mature to try to pry. Not that it would have worked; Jack never revealed anything he didn't want to. She felt her dad's loneliness over the years that followed and hoped he would find someone with whom to share his life, but it hadn't happened. She had introduced him to several eligible women over the years, and while he had taken a few to dinner or a movie nothing had developed, and Kim had resigned herself to her father's continuing 'aloneness.'

Nevertheless she never stopped trying to fix him up until he asked her to. "I'll meet someone on my own, Kim, if it's meant to be. I appreciate what you're trying to do, but enough, okay?" He said it gently; he would never hurt his daughter's feelings. But he meant what he said, and she knew it.

But that didn't mean she wouldn't stay in his life, nudging him when she saw fit, or when she just had the opportunity. Over the years she continued to tease him about being a creature of habit, buying the same clothes, eating the same foods, going to the same places. When he went to replace the SUV that had been totalled by the white van, she said; "Live a little. Go wild, Dad."

So he'd ordered a light gray SUV instead of his usual black, and was pleased when he picked it up from the dealer. He smiled when he recalled his conversation with his daughter. 'Going wild' with light gray. That's quite a difference from black, he thought wryly. I really am a creature of habit. Still, he was pleased when he got into the car to pick up Lesley.

As he drove down US 1 Jack realized that he was nervous. He had made a reservation at a restaurant on the beach near the Marina, one known for its seafood and steaks, and he hadn't thought to ask her if she liked that kind of food. She didn't strike him as a vegetarian, and he wondered why that was. Was there a vegetarian 'type?' he wondered. No, whatever food they have will be all right with her, or at least she'll find something to eat and won't object. She seemed that kind of woman.


End file.
